JC-NRLF 


10 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

EDUCATION 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


TEACHER'S     GIF  T 

TO 

HIS    PUPILS. 


11 

va  o 


^  s 


, 


THE 


TEACHER'S     GIFT 


HIS    PUPILS. 


WITH    NUMEROUS    ENGRAVINGS. 


"He  was  constantly  thinking  of  them." 


SECOND    EDITION. 


BOSTON : 

GRAY    AND    BOWEN, 
LINCOLN  AND  EDMANDS,  AND  N.  S.  SIMPKINS  AND  CO. 

M  PCCC  XXXI. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1851, 

BY  GRAT  AND  BOWEN, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts 


LANCASTER    PRESS: 
CARTER,  ANDREWS,  &.  Co.  PRINTERS. 


GIFT 


PREFACE  . 

THE  following  stories  were  written 
during  a  long  connexion  with  a  Sun- 
day school,  in  which  part  of  the  plan 
of  instruction  pursued  was  a  general 
lesson  delivered  before  the  whole  school. 
In  order  to  secure  attention  and  pre- 
vent repetition,  the  author  was  induced 
to  write  down  the  heads  of  his  little  ad- 
dresses ;  and  the  increased  interest  ex- 
cited in  the  minds  of  his  pupils,  by  this 
means,  has  fully  repaid  him  for  any  addi- 
tional labour  it  may  have  cost  him. 

His  design  in  these  exercises  has  been 
simply  to  draw  from  the  common  events 
of  life,  which  every  child  must  notice,  a 
practical  illustration  of  the  value  and  ne- 
cessity of  religion  and  virtue.  He  has 
therefore  taken  for  his  subjects  the  daily 
occurrences  that  presented  themselves 
IB 

265 


PREFACE. 

in  the  immediate  circle  of  his  acquaint- 
ance ;  and  any  thing,  in  short,  which 
might  impress  the  youthful  Christian  with 
this  one  great  truth,  that  religion  is  essen- 
tial to  our  happiness,  and  that  there  is  no 
situation  in  life  to  which  it  does  not  impart 
new  pleasure. 

TO  HIS  PUPILS 

He  will  only  say,  that  in  preparing  this 
little  volume  he  was  constantly  thinking 
of  them,  and  he  hopes  that  the  incidents 
related,  which  were  witnessed  by  him* 
may  prove  interesting  and  useful.  On 
presenting  this  token  of  his  regard,  he 
cannot  but  repeat,  what  they  have  often 
heard  him  say,  that  on  reading  these  sto- 
ries, they  must  not  forget  their  de- 
sign, which  is  to  render  them  GOOD 
CHILDREN;  certain  that  they  cannot  then 
fail  to  be  as  happy  as  the  most  ardent 
wishes  of  their  affectionate  friend  and 
teacher  could  desire. 


CONTENTS. 


"•CHAPTER  I.                                Pag«. 
QUARRELLING  5  OR,  THE  BIRD'S  NEST 9 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE     GOOD    OLD    WOMAN  j    OR;     DEVOTION     At 
CHURCH - 17 

CHAPTER  III. 
LOVE  TO  GOD  .  .  . ,  » '23 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ADAPTATION    OF   ANIMALS    TO    THE    DIFFERENT 
PARTS  OF  THE  WORLD 29 

CHAPTER  V, 
THANKSGIVING  VISIT  5  OR;  THE  GOOD  OLD  MAN       38 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   POWER    OF   FAITH  j  OR,  THE    CHRISTIAN'S 
DEATH 4£ 

CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  FAITHFUL  GUIDES  5    OR,  A  WALK  THROUGH 
THE  COAL  MINE 52 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  TWO  TEMPLES G2 

CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  UNKIND  BROTHER  ;  OR,  THE  NAUTILUS  .  ,  .  69 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

SATURDAY  AFTERNOON ;  OR,  A  SABBATH  IN  THE 
COUNTRY  79 

CHAPTER  XI. 

SINGING  ;  OR,  THE  PRESENT  TO  A  SCHOOL.    MORN- 
ING HYMN  j  EVENING  HYMN 85 

CHAPTER  XII. 
DISAPPOINTMENT}  OR,  THE  BLIND  ORPHAN  BOY  .  92 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
WATCH,  THAT  YE  ENTER  NOT  INTO  TEMPTATION  101 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   GRATEFUL    WELCOME;    OR,  REWARD  FOR 
BENEVOLENCE 105 

CHAPTER  XV. 
RESIGNATION}  OR,  THE  PUPIL'S  DEATH 113 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

ABSENCE   FROM  HOME;  OR,  THE  UNCLE'S  VISIT 
TO  HIS  LITTLE  FRIENDS 118 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  PILGRIMS;  OR,  PERSEVERANCE  AND  PIETY  124 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
AFFECTION  ;  OR,  LOVE  TO  PARENTS 129 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  TWINS  5  OR,  HOW  MUCH  A  CHILD  CAN  DO   135 


THE   TEACHER'S    GIFT 

TO    HIS    PUPILS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

QUARRELING;  OR,  THE  BIRD'S  NEST. 
IT  was  Saturday  afternoon  ;  I  was  sitting 
in  an  arm  chair,  looking  out  of  my  chamber 
window.  The  sun  was  just  setting,  and  all 
was  silent,  except  the  little  birds  that  were 
flying  about  and  chirping  near  me.  It  was 
hot  in  the  city,  for  there  I  should  have  heard 
the  noise  of  carts  and  carriages  ;  no,  it  was  in 
a  country  village,  arid  I  could  see,  between 
the  trees  that  surrounded  the  house,  the 
farmers  at  a  distance,  raking  hay  and  work* 
ing  very  hard.  By-and-by,  I  saw  a  little  robin 
fly  to  the  tree,  very  near  my  window,  and 
observing  more  closely,  I  perceived  that  she 
was  standing  on  the  side  of  a  nest,  in  which 
were  four  little  birds,  holding  their  mouths 
wide  open.  She  dropped  something  into 
one  of  them,  and  then  pecked  the  side  of  the 
nest,  as  if  to  put  things  in  order,  and  stood 
a  few  moments  looking  at  the  little  ones, 


10  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  witness  the  ten- 
derness and  affection  of  this  good  mother, 
and  to  see  the  little  birds  lying  close  toge- 
ther, winking  their  small  bright  eyes.  The 
nest  was  high  up  on  a  large  apple  tree,  and 
its  branches  extended  over  the  nest,  so  as  to 
shield  it  from  the  storms.  How  pleasantly 
must  they  live  in  that  safe  hollow,  thought 
I,  as  I  sat  looking  at  them.  When  the 
rain  pours  down  it  does  not  hurt  them,  for 
their  mother  covers  them  with  her  wings, 
and  it  beats  only  upon  her.  But  she  does 
not  rnind  it,  and  never  flies  away,  but  sits 
silently  and  patiently,  covering  over  her  lit- 
tle ones ;  and  when  the  sun  shines  bright  she 
flies  abroad  and  brings  home  their  food  in 
her  beak.  In  a  few  days  after  this,  these 
little  birds  began  to  fly,  having  gained  their 
strength,  and  we  could  have  seen  the  good 
mother,  in  pleasant  weather,  flying  from 
one  bough  to  another,  urging  them  to  follow, 
and  when  they  did,  we  should  have  seen 
how  delighted  she  was. 

Suppose  that  one  day,  when  they  had  be- 
come old  enough  to  fly  abroad  in  the  fields, 
and  chase  each  other  in  the  air,  a  man  should 
jump  over  the  rail  fence  with  something 


12  TEACHER'S  GIFT* 

hanging  at  his  side,  and  a  gun  in  his  hand, 
arid  when  he  had  come  near  this  little  group 
of  birds,  they  should  fly  to  their  home  on 
the  tree,  and  the  man  should  creep  slowly 
along,  following  them,  and  come  under  the 
tree,  and  pointing  his  gun,  fire,  and  imme- 
diately a  little  bird  fall,  with  its  head  down, 
and  its  wings  spread  out.  Should  you  see 
this  would  you  not  exclaim,  cruel  man  ! 
to  kill  that  pretty  little  robin.  Oh  !  you 
should  not  have  done  so,  you  have  broken 
up  the  happiness  of  that  little  family.  How 
its  poor  mother  will  grieve  when  she  misses 
her  little  one,  and  the  other  birds  will  feel 
very  sad  at  the  loss  of  their  playmate. 
Cruel,  cruel  man,  to  do  this  and  make  them 
so  unhappy. 

You  have,  no  doubt,  seen  such  a  bird's 
nest  as  I  have  described,  and  have  seen  how 
happy  the  little  birds  were,  and  how  much 
they  seemed  to  enjoy  the  free  air  and  the 
fields.  Did  you  ever  see  a  little  family  of 
children  like  this?  Oh!  yes,  you  will  reply. 
Did  you  ever  see  a  good  mother  sitting  by 
the  fire,  and  all  her  little  children  round 
the  table,  amusing  themselves  by  drawing, 
sewing,  reading,  and  painting  ?  I  have  ; 


14  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

and  I  have  seen  some  one  break  up  all  this 
happiness,  like  the  cruel  man  who  killed  the 
little  bird.  It  was  not  a  man  with  a  gun 
that  did  it;  no,  it  was  a  little  girl.  What! 
a  little  girl  do  such  a  thing?  Yes.  Pray 
how  ?  you  will  ask  me.  Why,  I  have  seen 
such  a  little  family  sitting  by  the  table,  en- 
joying themselves  in  the  evening,  and  one 
of  the  little  girls  began  to  be  cross,  and 
speak  ill-naturedly  to  her  sister,  and  then 
throw  aside  her  playthings,  and  scold,  and 
become  peevish,  and  perhaps  contradict  a 
brother  or  sister,  till  very  soon  the  harmony 
of  all  the  little  group  was  destroyed,  and  one 
began  to  cry,  and  the  others  to  quarrel. 

Did  you  ever  see  this  ?  I  hope  not ,  but 
if  you  have,  was  it  not  a  sad  sight?  Mark 
what  was  the  cause :  why,  one  little  girl 
was  ill-natured  ;  the  rest  were  not  kind  and 
conciliatory,  and  did  not  try  to  please  each 
other,  and  they  became  peevish  and  cross, 
till  one  had  to  go  out  of  the  room,  and 
another  was  sent  to  bed. 

My  pupils,  do  ill  feelings  sometimes  rise 
in  your  bosoms?  do  you  ever  speak  harsh- 
ly to  a  brother  or  sister,  till  by  one  un- 
kind word  after  another  you  bring  on  that 


QUARRELING.  15 

most  disagreeable  of  all  things,  a  quarrel  ? 
I  conjure  you  to  reflect  how  much  pain  you 
give.  You  blamed  the  man  who  killed  the 
little  bird,  you  thought  how  much  pain  and 
sorrow  it  would  cause  the  bird's  mother. 
Did  you  ever  reflect  how  much  pain  an 
unkind,  fretful,  peevish  disposition,  would 
give  your  parents  ?  Did  you  ever  think 
how  painful  it  is  to  a  good  heart,  to  lie 
down  at  night  with  an  unpleasant  feeling 
toward  a  brother,  sister,  or  playmate,  or  to 
have  them  offended  with  us  ?  Think  of 
this  a  moment;  think  that  when  you  are 
older  you  will  look  back  on  the  days  spent 
with  your  brothers  and  sisters,  with  a  feeling 
of  interest  you  can  hardly  imagine;  if  you 
can  then  recall  a  period  when  you  were  un- 
kind to  them,  or  injured  their  feelings,  you 
will  regret  it  with  heartfelt  sorrow. 

Still  more,  if  they  are  no  longer  living  ;  if 
death  has  deprived  you  of  the  power  to 
show  them  your  remorse  or  love  ;  and  if  you 
were  separated  at  the  time  of  a  quarrel, 
never  to  meet  again  ;  if  your  thought  of  a 
departed  brother  be  clouded  by  the  remem- 
brance that  you  were  unkind  to  him,  and 
that  you  will  not  see  him  again  till  the  awful 


16  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

hour  arrive  when  you  will  meet  your  God, 
how  sad,  how  painful  would  be  the  reflec- 
tion ! 

But  no,  it  shall  not  be  so,  say  to  your- 
selves now,  and  from  this  moment  resolve, 
that  you  will  be  unkind  no  more  ;  that  you 
will  try  each  day  to  love  your  parents,  and 
brothers,  .and  sisters,  more  and  more. 
Check  your  bad  passions  whenever  they 
rise :  pause  and  say,  "  Thou,  God,  seest 
me  !"  and  this  thought  will  quell  these  ill 
feelings; — and  follow  the  example  of  the 
little  birds,  "who  in  their  nests  agree." 

Ah  !  do  more  ;  remember,  and  try  always 
to  follow  the  example  of  the  good,  kind, 
and  gentle  Saviour,  and  like  him,  when  you 
are  spoken  unkindly  to,  speak  kindly  in  re- 
turn ;  thus, 

"  God  in  heaven,  with  smiles  will  view 
All  you  think  and  all  you  do  ; 
And  when  Jesus  wakes  the  dead, 
His  right  hand  will  crown  your  head." 


17 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE    GOOD    OLD    WOMAN  ;    OR,    DEVOTION    AT 
CHURCH. 

WHEN  I  was  a  little  boy,  and  went  to 
school,  I  used  to  pass  through  a  street,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  was  a  large  river,  and 
beyond  it  I  could  see  the  hills  in  the  coun- 
try, and  the  beautiful  green  trees.  Often  I 
have  walked  that  way  with  my  satchel  on 
my  shoulder,  admiring,  as  I  passed,  the  blue 
water  and  the  pleasant  view,  with  the  stee- 
ples of  the  churches  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river,  glittering  in  the  sun.  This  was  a 
great  many  years  ago,  but  the  pleasure  I 
derived  from  these  walks  I  can  never  for- 
get. 

.  A  large  part  of  the  river  has  since  been 
filled  up,  but  I  love  to  go  there  in  the 
morning,  and  recall  the  days  of  my  boyhood  ; 
and  at  night,  and  see  the  bright  stars  reflect- 
ed on  the  water.  There  are  no  recollec- 


18  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

tions  so  pleasant  in  after-life,  as  those  of 
childhood.  You  are  too  young  now  to  real- 
ise this,  but  when  you  are  older,  you 
will  feel  it.  It  was  not  long  since  that  I 
visited  this  spot  at  the  close  of  the  Sabbath. 
The  moon  shone  bright,  the  bells  were  call- 
ing people  to  church,  and  I  could  distinctly 
hear  the  village  bell,  as  its  sound  came  soft- 
ened over  the  water.  I  walked  there  a  few 
moments,  and  then  thought  I  would  join  the 
multitude,  and  go  to  the  house  of  God. 
After  going  some  distance,  I  turned  into  a 
narrow  alley,  and  there  saw  the  people 
entering  a  large  old  building,  at  the  top  of 
which  was  hoisted  a  flag.  I  went  in  and  had 
sat  but  a  few  moments,  when  I  discovered 
that  all  around  me  were  of  a  humble  class 
in  life.  The  women  sat  on  one  side,  and 
the  men  on  the  other.  Presently  I  saw  some 
sailors  come  in ;  indeed,  I  observed  by  the 
dress  and  appearance  of  those  around  me, 
that  nearly  all  the  men  were  sailors,  and 
that  this  was  a  sailor's  meeting  house. 
Their  countenances  were  hardy  and  rough, 
and  their  dress  coarse,  but  they  were  very 
attentive  and  orderly. 


20  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

The  exercises  commenced  with  singing  a 
hymn.  No  organ  was  heard,  but  all  united 
in  it,  and  the  little  chapel  resounded  with 
the  song  of  praise.  At  length  the  minister 
arose ;  he  was  a  venerable  looking  man, 
and  devout,  as  became  his  profession.  His 
sermon  consisted  of  a  simple  and  impressive 
exhortation  to  his  hearers,  to  seek  above 
all  things  those  treasures  which  do  not  pass 
away,  but  are  eternal  as  their  Giver. 

The  sermon  being  finished,  a  hymn  was 
sung.  As  they  were  singing,  I  saw  an  old 
woman  sitting  in  one  corner  of  the  church 
— her  hands  were  clasped,  her  eyes  clos- 
ed ;  she  appeared  insensible  to  all  about 
her,  and  seemed  to  hold  direct  communion 
with  her  God.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen 
her  humble  and  pious  posture ;  and  her 
face,  which  expressed  so  well  a  resigned 
and  faithful  soul.  I  could  distinctly  hear 
her  voice,  and  she  appeared  to  feel  that 
it  was  their  parting  hymn  that  they  were 
singing, 

I  wish  that  I  could  give  you  an  idea  of 
this  old  lady,  her  manner,  her  humble  ap- 
pearance ;  and  that  you  had  seen  the 
tear  fall  over  her  furrowed  cheek  when  she 


DEVOTION    AT    CHURCH.  £1 

arose.  The  benediction  was  given,  and  I 
left  the  church,  and  separated  from  the 
crowd,  many  of  whom,  no  doubt,  returned 
to  their  berths  in  their  vessels,  and  are  now 
perhaps  rocking  on  the  ocean ;  and  their 
sturdy  hearts  are  called  to  brave  its  dangers, 
and  acknowledge  the  protecting  power  of 
that  Being  whom  they  went  up  that  even- 
ing to  worship.  As  I  walked  home,  I 
could  not  help  reflecting  on  the  old  woman 
I  had  seen,  and  indulged  myself  with  draw- 
ing a* picture  of  her  pitiable  situation.  She 
was  evidently  poor,  and  I  followed  her  to 
some  lonely  apartment,  where  she  wanted 
all  those  comforts  that  age  needs  ;  but  faith 
cheered  that  abode,  and  she  did  not  feel 
alone,  for  God  was  with  her.  During  that 
evening  service,  her  thoughts  had  been  with 
her  Father.  She  had  lifted  up  her  heart,  as 
well  as  her  voice,  in  prayer  and  praise. 

Is  it  always  so  with  us  when  we  enter  His 
holy  temple  ?  In  the  prayers,  do  we  always 
unite  and  implore  a  blessing  with  the  mi- 
nister? Do  we  in  singing  lift  up  our  hearts 
to  God  in  gratitude  ?  Do  we,  as  we  enter 
that  place,  feel  grateful  for  the  privilege  ? 
Are  our  thoughts,  when  there,  fixed  on  eter- 


1  TEACHERS   GIFT. 

nal  objects  ?  Oh,  I  would  that  it  were  so  ! 
that  when  we  sung,  we  sung  with  the  spirit. 
I  would  that  our  prayers  were  as  heartfelt, 
fervent,  holy,  as  her's.  I  would  that  our 
thoughts  when  we  are  there,  never  wander- 
ed, that  we  looked  not  at  those  about  us, 
but  upon  our  own  hearts. 

Let  us  resolve  that  it  shall  be  so  from  this 
time,  and  not  forget,  that 

"  When  to  the  house  of  God  we  go 

To  hear  his  word  and  sing  his  love, 
To  offer  praises  here  below, 

With  all  the  saints  in  heaven  above, 

Our  God  is  present  with  us  there, 

And  watches  all  our  thoughts  and  ways  j 

Oh  !  let  us  humbly  join  in  prayer, 
Let  us  sincerely  sing  his  praise." 

I  shall  not  have  told  you  this  story  in 
vain,  if,  when  we  next  enter  a  church  to 
offer  our  morning  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving, 
we  try  to  be  as  sincere  and  fervent  as  this 
poor  old  woman  was,  and  realize  as  this 
humble  Christian  did,  that  we  are  in  the 
temple  of  the  Most  High ;  that  we  have 
come  up  to  praise  him,  and  entreat  his  for- 
giveness and  mercy  ;  and  like  her  "Keep 
our  feet  with  all  diligence  when  we  go  to 
the  house  of  God." 


CHAPTER   III. 

LOVE    TO    GOD. 

I  WISH  to  say  a  few  words  to  you,  on  a 
subject  which  interests  me  very  much.  It  is 
love  to  God.  You  no  doubt  remember  that 
on  one  occasion  Jesus  was  surrounded  by 
a  multitude  of  people,  and  uttered  these 
words:  "Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart,  mind,  and  strength." 
This  he  repeated  from  the  Law  given  by 
Moses  ;  and  he  added  on  another  occasion, 
to  his  disciples  :  "  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will 
keep  my  commandments  ;  the  word  you 
hear  is  not  mine,  but  the  Father's  who  sent 
me."  Let  us  consider  what  this  love  of 
God  is,  and  how  it  produces  such  perfect 
obedience.  This  command  of  our  Saviour 
is  given  to  us,  and  it  is  the  first  and  the 
great  command,  and  this  love  is  seen  in 
every  true  Christian.  It  is  a  principle  we 
cannot  mistake,  and  one  we  can  easily 
understand. 


24  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

He  who  feels  this  love  cannot  be  unhappy, 
for,  whatever  happens  to  him  from  without, 
his  conscience  is  peaceful,  and  he  knows 
that  God  directs  all — he  is  therefore  satisfied. 
He  who  does  not  possess  this  love,  though 
he  should  have  every  other  good  that  this 
world  can  give,  would  yet  be  unsatisfied,  for 
it  is  this  love  alone  that  can  fill  the  immortal 
mind.  I  will  explain  this  by  an  example. 

Suppose  there  were  two  men  whose  situ- 
ation in  life  was  the  same — both  of  them 
rich,  both  of  them  blest  with  every  com- 
fort life  can  afford.  One  of  them  has  a 
friend  whose  kindness  and  sympathy  is  ever 
ready  to  aid  him,  a  friend  who  is  con- 
stantly looking  upon  him  with  an  interest 
like  that  your  parents  feel  for  you.  Now 
when  this  man  is  in  distress,  he  knows  where 
to  go  for  relief;  when  in  doubt,  for  advice 
and  support ;  and  if  other  friends  fail,  he 
still  has  one  remaining  whose  love  does  not 
change ;  or  let  his  sorrows  be  what  they  may, 
he  is  sure  that  he  has  one  friend  who  views 
him  with  the  greatest  affection.  And  if  he 

o 

is  happy,  how  much  is  his  happiness  in- 
creased by  the  knowledge  that  his  friend 
feels  with  and  for  him ;  and  that  every  act 
of  self-denial,  every  good  action,  increases 


LOVE    TO    GOD.  25 

the  affection  of  his  friend.  He  knows  that 
whatever  may  be  his  lot,  there  is  one  friend 
of  whose  tender  love  he  is  secure,  and  that 
nothing  but  guilt  can  ever  change  it. 
Thus,  in  every  change  and  vicissitude,  this 
man  has  a  blessing  that  nothing  but  sin  or 
his  own  culpable  indifference  can  take  from 
him. 

Now  take  the  other  man  who  has  the  same 
riches  and  power,  but  who  has  no  friend. 
He,  too,  has  trials  and  temptations,  but 
where  is  the  person  to  whom  he  looks  to 
aid  him  in  overcoming  them  ?  He  has  sor- 
rows, but  where  is  the  friend  to  whom  he 
can  tell  his  grief,  and  receive  sympathy  and 
support  ?  He  has  prosperity,  but  the  favours 
or  kindness  he  receives  from  those  who  are 
not  interested  in  him,  give  him  no  lasting 
happiness.  He  is  weak,  and  he  can  go  to 
no  one  to  strengthen  him  ;  ignorant,  but  he 
has  no  one  to  advise  him.  Ah,  how  unfor- 
tunate is  such  a  man!  he  is  indeed  alone  in 
the  world.  He  looks  around,  there  is  no 
eye  beaming  upon  him  with  interest;  he 
looks  above,  but  no  comfort  comes  to  him 
from  thence.  He  has  no  father's  care,  no 
mother's  love,  no  brother's  aifection,  no 
sister's  tenderness. 


26  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

My  pupils,  is  such  a  man  happy  ?  Can 
he  be  happy  ?  He  has  riches,  it  is  true,  but 
he  can  live  but  in  one  house,  can  eat  but  one 
dinner,  can  wear  but  one  dress.  He  has 
honours,  but  the  highest  offices  or  distinc- 
tions cannot  soothe  the  hours  of  loneliness, 
of  sickness,  of  death  !  No.  All  the  world 
can  do,  all  it  can  offer,  could  not,  even  for 
a  moment,  still  the  aching  head  or  support 
his  fainting  spirit. 

Do  you  say  of  such  a  man,  How  much  he 
is  to  be  pitied !  Let  me  tell  you,  such  is  a  man 
without  love  to  God.  Behold,  in  the  picture 
I  have  presented,  a  contrast  between  the 
man  who  has  God  for  his  friend,  and  him 
who  loves  not  that  Being.  Do  you  love  him, 
my  dear  pupils?  do  you  often  think  of  his 
protecting  care,  his  parental  kindness  ?  He 
is  your  Father  in  heaven.  Your  Father  in 
heaven  !  what  a  claim  to  yourloveJ  do  you 
think  of  him  as  such  ?  You  know  the  love 
you  have  for  your  parents,  you  know  how 
much  you  think  of  them,  you  know  too  how 
cheerfully  you  do  all  they  ask  of  you,  and 
remember  what  they  tell  you,  because  you 
love  them. 

And  will  you  not  love  God?     Him  who 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ADAPTATION  OF  ANIMALS  TO  THE  DIFFERENT 
PARTS    OF    THE    WORLD. 

DID  you  ever  consider  the  goodness  of  the 
Creator  in  the  adaptation  of  animals  to  the 
different  parts  of  the  world,  and  observe  how 
dependent  man  is  upon  them  ?  God,  who  is 
good  to  us,  is  not  good  to  us  alone.  No,  he 
is  good  to  every  thing  that  he  has  made. 
The  spot  of  earth  that  we  inhabit  is  very 
small  in  comparison  with  the  world.  And 
is  all  the  world  alike  ?  Certainly  not.  In 
some  parts  it  is  nearly  the  whole  year  very 
hot ;  the  ground  is  sandy,  and  there  are  hard- 
ly any  trees.  In  other  parts  it  is  almost  all 
the  year  cold  ;  and  the  ground  is  covered 
with  snow  ;  and  there  are  high  mountains  of 
ice  ;  and  plains  where  no  man,  animal,  or 
living  thing  is  seen,  for  the  cold  air  would 
soon  freeze  them.  What  a  difference  ! 
What  a  difference  from  the  place  we  live  in. 
The  year,  you  know,  is  divided  into  sea- 


30  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

sons  ;  and  we  call  them  spring,  summer, 
autumn,  and  winter.  Now  mark  how  won- 
derfully God  has  formed  animals  to  live  in 
these  different  parts  of  the  earth. 

In  the  first  place,  he  has  given  us  many 
animals  peculiarly  adapted  to  our  climate. 
Suppose  you  had  a  parent  or  a  relative  sick, 
an  hundred  miles  from  home,  and  you  wish- 
ed to  see  him — what  animal  would  carry 
you  swiftly  over  the  ground  ?  It  would  be 

THE    HORSE, 


And  by  this  means  God  would  enable 
you  to  see  them  many  days  sooner  than  you 
otherwise  could. 

Suppose  there  was  any  heavy  weight  to 
be  carried  to  a  distance,  or  a  loaded  cart 
to  be  drawn,  it  would  not  be  the  horse 


ADAPTATION    OF    ANIMALS.  31 

that  would  be  procured,  but  the  slow  and 
strong 

ox 


would  be  brought  out,  and  the  heavy  yoke 
placed  upon  his  neck;  for  though  he  can- 
not go  so  fast  as  a  horse,  he  can  draw  a 
great  deal  more. 

When  you  have  been  in  the  country,  you 
have  perhaps  seen  the  sheep  grazing  on  the 
rocks  and  hills.  These  give  us  their  warm 
fleece  in  the  spring  of  the  year  for  our  win- 
ter clothes ;  and  it  is  the  kind  and  gentle 
cow  that  gives  a  rich  milk,  which  is  in 
some  places  an  expensive  luxury. 

These  are  the  animals  God  has  given  us, 
and  they  all  live  here  happily. 

In  some  parts  of  the  world  there  are 
none  of  these  animals ;  parts  where  there 
is  little  water,  and  where  one  may  travel 
miles  before  he  will  meet  with  any.  In  these 


32  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

dreary  places,  the  green  grass  that  we  hSve 
is  seldom  seen ;  for  the  sun's  rays  have 
great  power  almost  all  the  year,  and  the 
ground  is  dry,  parched,  and  sandy.  There 
are  few  trees  to  rest  under,  and  for  miles 
you  may  see  nothing  but  a  sandy  desert. 
Were  we  to  see  this  spot,  we  should  say  it 
would  be  a  dreary  one  to  live  in.  Yet  there 
are  people  who  live  there ;  and  God,  who 
is  kind  to  all  he  has  made,  has  given  them 
one  animal  which  unites  the  various  excel- 
lencies of  the  many  which  we  have,  and  ena- 
bles man  to  inhabit  this  part  of  the  world. 
This  animal  is  the 

CAMEL, 


and  it  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  this  particu- 
lar spot ;  so  much  so,  that  the  Arabs  consider 
the  camel  as  a  present  from  heaven,  and  re- 
gard it  as  a  sacred  animal,  without  which 
they  could  neither  subsist,  trade,  or  travel. 


ADAPTATION    OF    ANIMALS.  83 

The  camel  is  kind  and  gentle,  is  early 
trained  to  bear  burthens,  rises  and  kneels 
at  the  request  of  his  master,  and  can  travel 
over  the  sandy  deserts  of  Arabia  from  fifty 
to  one  hundred  miles  a  day  with  a  thousand 
pounds  upon  his  back ;  while  the  Arab, 
with  his  family  sitting  upon  him,  sings  to 
cheer  him  on  his  way ;  for  the  Arabians 
say  the  Camel  loves  music. 

God  has  given  the  feet  of  this  animal 
such  a  form  that  they  spread  out  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  thus  prevent  him  from  sinking  in 
the  sand.  As  his  master  is  often  obliged  to 
travel  fifteen  or  twenty  days  without  coming 
to  a  spring,  God  has  kindly  provided  for  the 
camel  a  stomach,  with  as  many  as  twenty 
bags,  by  which  it  can  take  in  a  great  quan- 
tity of  water  at  once,  and  squeeze  it  from 
these  bags  into  the  stomach  when  it  is  dry. 

Consider,  a  moment,  what  a  valuable  ani- 
mal the  camel  is.  His  milk  gives  nourish- 
ment ;  his  hair  which  grows  near  the  bunch 
on  his  back,  makes  a  delicate  clothing  ;  his 
flesh  is  food  for  the  Arabian  ;  he  can  bear 
long  abstinence  from  food  and  water;  he  can 
travel  with  rapidity  over  deserts  impassable 
to  any  other  animal ;  and  he  is  docile  and 


34  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

gentle  as  he  is  useful.  Thus  has  God,  in 
one  animal,  made  up  to  the  Arabians  for 
the  barrenness  of  their  soil,  and  one  that 
supplies  the  place  of  those  he  has  given 
us.  Without  this  animal,  the  people  in 
this  part  of  the  world  would  die  ;  with  it 
they  are  contented  and  happy. 

We  will  consider  now  that  part  where  it 
is  very  cold  ;  where,  instead  of  desert  plains, 
there  are  high  mountains  of  ice,  and  the 
ground  is  covered  with  snow ;  where  the 
winters  are  very  long,  and  we  should  hardly 
think  any  one  could  live.  In  this  cold 
region  God  has  placed  an  animal  as 
wonderful  as  the  camel.  It  is  called  the 

REIN-DEER, 


and  the  place  I  have  mentioned  is  Lapland. 


ADAPTATION    OF    ANIMALS.  35 

To  give  you  an  idea  of  the  value  of  the 
rein-deer,  I  will  mention,  that  there  is 
not  a  single  part  of  this  animal  that  the 
Laplanders  do  not  use.  How  do  they  keep 
themselves  warm  ?  it  is  by  the  skin  of  the 
deer;  and  their  caps,  coats,  and  all  their 
clothing,  are  made  of  this.  The  skin  is  also 
their  bed,  and  when  they  build  their  tents 
they  cover  them  with  it.  Its  horns  are  very 
valuable.  The  rein-deer  furnishes  the  Lap- 
lander with  food  ;  its  milk  is  drank  by  them  ; 
and  its  tongue,  when  salted  and  dried,  is 
said  to  be  a  great  delicacy.  The  feet  of  the 
rein-deer  are  well  adapted  to  glide  over  the 
snow  and  ice  ;  and  the  animal  goes  with 
great  swiftness  and  care. 

The  Laplanders  travel  in  a  sledge,  formed 
something  like  a  boat.  They  fasten  a  string 
to  the  lower  part  of  the  horns,  and  take  a 
stick  in  their  hands,  and  thus  keep  the 
sledge  from  being  overturned.  The  bottom 
and  sides  of  the  sledge  are  of  wood,  and  the 
top  is  covered .  with  a  skin — like  the  an- 
nexed picture,  which  represents  a  Laplander 
travelling  in  a  sledge.  The  Laplander  fas- 
tens himself  in  the  slediiv,  and  the  rein-deer 
carries  him  with  ease  over  mountains  of  snow. 


ADAPTATION    OF    ANIMALS.  37 

I  could  go  on  and  trace  in  other  animals 
an  adaptation  to  the  wants  of  man,  equally 
extraordinary  with  those  that  I  have  de- 
scribed ;  but  we  will  pause  here,  and  reflect 
on  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator. 
You  see  that  the  burning  sands  of  Arabia, 
the  frozen  regions  of  Lapland,  and  the  va- 
ried seasons  of  our  own  country,  are  all 
made  habitable,  and  that  God  dispenses 
happiness  over  the  world  that  he  has  made, 
in  the  very  animals  he  has  placed  in  its  va- 
rious parts. 

Let  us  always  delight  to  trace  his  good- 
ness in  all  his  vast  creation,  and  adore  his 
power,  and  try  to  deserve  his  protecting 
mercy,  knowing  that  wherever  we  may  be, 
whether 

"  In  wild  Arabia's  burning  sands, 
Or  Lapland's  frozen  shores, 
There,  in  majestic  power,  he  reigns 
An  ever  present  God." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THANKSGIVING    VISIT  J      OR,     THE    GOOD    OLD 
MAJf. 

"VViiAT  an  interesting  season  in  the  year 
is  thanksgiving,  when  all  our  friends  meet 
around  the  family  table,  and  happiness  is 
seen  in  every  countenance.  It  is  pleasant, 
not  only  because  our  relatives  meet  from 
every  part,  but  because  it  is  the  season 
when  we  remember  the  poor,  and  desire 
that  they  may  enjoy  a  portion  of  our 
bounty.  Our  pleasures  are  always  increased 
by  making  others  happy  ;  and  no  one  is  so 
rich  that  he  may  not  be  indebted  to  the 
humblest  individual  for  something. 

As  I  always  wish,  my  pupils,  that  you 
should  participate  in  my  pleasures,  I  will 
tell  you  of  a  present  that  I  received  one 
thanksgiving  day;  and  I  think  you  will 
agree  with  me  that  it  was  a  most  valuable  one. 

When  I   was  a  little   boy,  an   old    man 


THE    GOOD    OLD    MAN.  39 

who  kept  a  tailor's  shop,  lived  near  us,  in  a 
small  ten-foot  building.  I  remember  how 
kind  he  always  was  when  I  went  to  his  shop, 
and  how  pleasantly  he  would  talk  with  me. 
I  liked  to  go  there,  because  he  was  so  fond 
of  children. 

Though  this  was  a  great  many  years  ago, 
I  can  well  remember  how  the  shop  looked. 
In  winter  he  had  a  little  stove  and  a  chair 
placed  at  the  side  of  it ;  and  in  summer  I 
often  went  there  to  sit  on  the  door-step, 
and  gaze  at  the  people  passing,  while  the 
good  old  man,  seated  on  the  bench  above  my 
head,  would  push  aside  the  shears  for  fear  I 
should  hurt  myself  with  them  ;  and  when  I 
wanted  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  my  father  would 
take  me  by  the  hand,  and  say,  "  Come,  rny  son, 
we  will  go  to  the  honest  old  man's  shop,  and 
get  measured  for  some  new  clothes ;"  nd 
when  they  were  finished,  often  have  I  felt  in 
the  deep  new  pocket  for  the  bright  cent  this 
good  old  man  would  put  there  for  me. 

You  may  possibly  remember,  that  one  or 
two  days  before  thanksgiving,  a  few  years 
ago,  it  rained  very  hard,  and  the  weather 
was  exceedingly  dull  for  many  days.  Amidst 
the  storm  I  went  down  one  afternoon  to 


40  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 


A street,  and  turning  into  a  narrow 

alley,  entered  an  old  house,  went  up  two 
pair  of  stairs,  and  knocked  at  the  door.  Im- 
mediately somebody  said,  "  Come  in."  So  I 
went  in,  and  saw  an  old  man  sitting  on  a 
large  trunk  by  the  window.  He  knew  me  at 
once,  and  said  he  was  glad  indeed  to  see  me. 

An  aged  woman  was  sitting  by  the  fire, 
upon  which  were  a  few  sticks.  She  looked 
very  infirm,  and  was  a  true  picture  of  old 
age.  She  asked  me  very  kindly  to  come 
near  the  fire  ;  and  upon  my  inquiring  after 
her  health,  she  said  that  it  was  tolerable,  but 
that  she  had  lost  her  memory,  and  it  seemed 
to  her  all  the  time,  as  if  she  was  in  a  strange 
place. 

I  told  the  old  man  that  I  had  come  to'see 
what  they  wanted  for  thansgiving,  and 
if  they  were  comfortable.  He  was  very 
grateful,  and  said,  u  how  good  my  Father  is 
in  sending  such  friends  to  me."  "  I  am 
now,"  he  continued,  "  eighty  years  old,  and 
my  wife  is  of  the  same  age.  Forty-eight 
years  have  we  lived  together,  and  never 
have  we  had  cause  to  complain  of  each 
other,  I  was  born  in  a  small  parish  in 
Scotland,  and  I  came  to  this  country  forty 


THE    GOOD    OLD    MAN.  41 

years  ago.  I  have  seen  many  trials,  but 
God  lias  never  failed  to  support  and  comfort 
me.  Let  me  tell  you  how  good  he  has 
been.  Twelve  years  ago,  the  man  of  whom 
I  hired  my  room  sent  an  officer,  and  told 
me  to  go  out  of  the  house,  and  threatened 
to  put  my  things  in  the  street  if  I  did 
not  pay  him  the  month's  rent  which  was 
then  due.  In  my  trouble,  a  kind  friend 
came  forward,  and  toll  mj  I  might  come 
and  live  in  this  upper  chamber  ;  and  here 
our  friends  visit  us,  and  by  their  kindness 
show  that  they  have  not  forgotten  us. 

"  A  short  time  after  we  came  here,  my 
wife  was  taken  sick,  and  for  nine  years  she 
has  not  been  down  stairs,  and  you  see  how 
childish  and  feeble  she  is.  But  mark,  sir,  how 
good  our  Father  is  to  us.  He  has,  in  our  old 
age,  given  me  strength  to  take  care  of  her, 
and,  feeble  as  she  is,  I  can  make  her  com- 
fortable, though  she  can  hardly  move  out  of 
her  chair." 

Well,  said  I,  as  I  arose  to  take  leave,  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  so  cheerful  and  contented. 
"  Contented !"    said    he,     "  dear    me,    sir 
there  are  not  two   happier  persons   in   the 
city  than   we  are.      Our    friends  are  very 


cl 


THE    GOOD    OLD    MAN.  43 

good  to  us,  and  they  send  us  now  and  then 
some  cold  victuals,  and  often  the  little  child- 
ren come  up  and  read  the  Bible  to  me,  and 
repeat  their  hymns,  which  I  explain  to 
them.  It  is  a  pleasant  sight,  indeed,  and  it 
warms  my  heart  to  see  them  play  together." 
As  I  looked  round  that  small  room,  (the 
only  furniture  in  which  was  a  bed,  a  table, 
two  chairs,  and  a  few  small  books  on  some 
old  shelves,)  and  beheld  this  poor  woman  and 
this  venerable  man,  I  could  not  but  feel  how 
good  is  God  "  to  those  who  put  their  trust  in 
him."  I  would  that  you  had  been  there  to 
have  seen  him.  As  I  was  about  to  go,  he 
said,  "  I  am  glad  that  you  have  called  upon 
us.  You  see  how  happy  we  live,  and  how 
good  God  is  to  us.  We  forget  not  our  old 
friends,  but  morning  and  night  they  come  up 
in  remembrance  as  we  offer  our  daily  prayer. 
Some  of  them  have  gone  down  to  the  grave  ; 
we  are  just  on  its  brink,  and  soon  shall  meet 
them  in  another  world.'5  Tears  of  joy  and 
gratitude  flowed  as  he  spoke ;  and  bidding 
them  adieu,  1  left  the  house,  though  I  would 
gladly  have  staid  longer ;  and  I  carried 
thence  a  rich  reward  in  what  I  had  seen 
and  heard  from  this  good  old  man. 


44  TEACHER  S    GIFT. 

There  he  was,  poor  as  he  could  be,  depen- 
dent on  the  charity  of  others,  in  a  land  far 
from  his  home  ;  the  friends  of  his  youth  all 
gone,  and  he  just  ready  to  depart.  Yet, 
what  a  beautiful  sight !  Here  was  a  Chris- 
tian whose  soul  was  fixed  on  his  heavenly 
Father ;  no  poverty  or  distress  turned  him 
aside,  and  it  truly  might  be  said  of  him, 
that 

"  His  heart  did  find  delight  in  praise. 
And  seek  relief  in  prayer." 

This  person  was  the  same  old  man  that 
I  used  to  go  and  see  when  I  was  a  little  boy  ; 
and  this  visit  brought  the  question  to  my 
mind,  as  I  sat  at  my  well-supplied  table  on 
thanksgiving  day — Is  my  gratitude  like  his? 
Is  my  love  to  my  Father  like  his  ? 

My  pupils,  words  are  too  poor  a  medium 
to  express  the  happiness  this  poor  man  en- 
joys. I  love  to  think  of  him  in  his  garret ; 
I  love  to  go  there  to  kindle  my  piety,  and 
increase  my  love  to  my  Father  in  heaven ; 
the  thought  of  him  and  of  the  source  whence 
he  derived  his  happiness,  was  the  reward  I 
received  for  my  visit.  I  present  it  to  you  ; 
treasure  it,  and  think  often  of  it,  and  then 
perhaps  you  may  better  understand  the 


THE    GOOD    OLD    MAN.  45 

meaning  of  those  beautiful  words  of  the 
Psalmist,  "  Mark  the  perfect  man,  and  be- 
hold the  upright,  for  the  end  of  that  man  is 
peace," 

''Then,  while  with  visage  blank  and  sere, 

The  poor  on  earth  we  see, 
Let  us  not  ask  what  he  is  here. 

But  what  he  soon  will  be  5 
And  look  beyond  this  earthly  night, 
To  crowns  of  gold,  and  bowers  of  light." 


c3 


46 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  POWER  OF  FAITH  J    OR,  THE  CHRISTIAN'S 
DEATH. 

ABOUT  two  weeks  after  my  visit  to  the  old 
man  whom  I  told  you  about  in  the  last  chap- 
ter, a  person  called  upon  me,  and  told  me 
that  he  was  very  sick.  I  went  to  see  him, 
and  took  a  servant  man  with  me  to  carry  a 
few  things  to  make  him  comfortable.  I  went 
into  the  room,  and  there  I  saw  him  lying  on 
a  bed.  I  was  grieved  to  see  him  looking  so 
pale  and  feeble,  and  soon  found  that  what 
I  had  brought  would  be  very  acceptable, 
and  it  was  immediately  prepared  and  given 
to  him.  He  then  revived,  and  I  told  him 
that  I  had  not  heard  till  a  short  time  before 
that  he  was  sick,  and  inquired  what  was  the 
matter.  He  told  me  that  one  night  as  he 
was  raking  up  the  fire,  he  had  a  faint  turn, 
and  fell  into  it.  His  wife,  who  was  in  bed, 
heard  him  fall,  and  called  very  loud,  till  the 


48  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

people  came  up,  and  took  him  out  of  the 
fire,  but  not  till  his  arm  and  hand  had  been 
sadly  burnt.  His  hand  was  dressed,  but  the 
next  day  he  felt  unable  to  sit  up.  The  doc- 
tor came  to  see  him,  and  told  him  that  his 
constitution  was  feeble,  and  that  it  required 
strengthening, — that  he  had  not  for  some 
time  past  eaten  meat  enough,  and  gave  him 
some  medicine.  "  But/'  said  the  old  man, 
"I  know  that  my  body  is  feeble;  the  pain 
in  my  hand  has  extended  through  my 
whole  frame,  and  is  gradually  increasing; 
I  hardly  slept  two  hours  all  last  night.  But 
it  was  soothing  to  remember,  as  I  lay  on  my 
bed  at  midnight,  the  words  of  the  Psalmist, 
'  Because  thy  loving  kindness  is  better  than 
life,  my  lips  will  praise  thee  :  while  I  re- 
member thee  upon  my  bed,  and  meditate  on 
thee  in  the  night  watches.  Because  thou 
hast  been  my  help,  therefore  in  the  shadow 
of  thy  wings  will  I  rejoice.' 

"  It  seems  to  me,  sometimes,"  continued 
the  old  man,  "  as  though  these  dreadful  pains 
would  draw  my  mind  from  God — as  if  they 
tried  to  make  me  peevish  and  forgetful.  But 
no,  they  shall  not  have  dominion  over  me  ; 
soon  they  will  overcome  this  poor  feeble 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  49 

body,  but  they  shall  not  disturb  my  faith. 
Sir/'  continued  he,  "  do  you  not  remember 
it  is  said  of  our  Saviour,  that  he  was  taken 
up  into  a  high  mountain,  and  shown  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the'  world,  and  he  said,  '  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan  '?  I  too  have  seen  the 
world,  its  pleasures,  riches,  and  all  that  it 
can  give ;  but  I  would  not  exchange  the 
hopes  I  now  have  in  the  promises  of  my  Re- 
deemer, for  ten  thousand  worlds.  I  must 
stop,"  said  he,  "  I  have  talked  too  much  ;  my 
mouth  is  dry  and  parched,  I  can  say  no 
more/' 

These  were  the  precise  words  he  uttered, 
as  I  stood  by  his  bedside.  I  wished  you  had 
been  there  to  have  heard  him  repeat  these 
and  many  other  passages  from  the  Bible,  for 
then  you  would  have  seen  the  power  of 
faith  over  pain  ;  then  you  would  have  seen 
from  that  bed  of  poverty,  the  brightness  and 
glory  of  a  holy  life.  An  old  friend  who  was 
there  kindly  offered  to  stay  with  him,  and  a 
faithful  negro  servant  watched  by  him  at 
night. 

A  few  evenings  after,  I  called  at  the  house, 
and  they  informed  me  that  he  was  very  low  ; 
an  hour  previous  to  my  visit,  he  called  his 


50  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

aged  friend  near  him,  and  said,  "  I  shall  soon 
leave  you."  A  chapter  was  read  to  him, 
by  his  request,  and  he  then  for  the  last  time, 
in  a  clear  and  audible  voice,  offered  his 
prayer  from  that  bed  of  death;  and  not  long 
after  he  closed  his  eyes  in  peace  on  the 
things  of  earth.  '  Thus  by  a  severe  and 
rough  way,  a  way  trod  by  the  steps  of  his 
Saviour  before  him,  God  conducted  him  to 
his  journey's  end.' 

He  is  gone  :  how  silent  was  his  departure 
— how  little  known.  Men  missed  him  not  in 
their  daily  walks ;  and  those  who  lived  near 
him  hardly  perceived  the  difference,  when 
he  was  not  in  his  chamber.  No ;  a  few,  very 
few,  miss  him  ;  a  few,  a  very  few,  mention  his 
death ;  but  we  rejoice  to  believe,  that  his  pure 
spirit  was  welcomed  and  received  into  the 
company  of  the  just,  and  that  his  prayers  on 
earth  are  continued  in  heaven,  with  those  of 
angels  and  archangels,  around  the  throne. 
With  delight  do  we  recall  the  words  of  our 
Saviour,  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for 
they  shall  see  God." 

My  pupils,  let  us  reflect  a  moment  on 
this  good  man's  life  arid  death.  I  have  re- 
lated it  to  you  to  lead  your  minds  to  this 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  51 

point.  You  know  we  must  all  die  ;  this  we 
cannot  escape  ;  and  most  of  us  must  suffer 
sickness,  misfortune,  old  age,  and  perhaps 
poverty.  The  utmost  exertion  of  others,  or 
ourselves,  cannot  always  insure  us  an  ex- 
emption from  these  evils.  If  this  be  true,  is 
it  not  natural  that  we  should  be  anxious  to 
possess  a  power  which  will  render  us  supe- 
rior to  them  1  If  we  must  suffer  as  surely 
as  we  live,  should  we  not  eagerly  seek  to 
attain  that  strength  of  character  which  will 
raise  us  above  all  suffering  ?  Yes,  you  will 
say,  tell  us  how  we  may  gain  it.  By  religion 
and  virtue  only  ;  by  love  to  God  and  obedi- 
ence to  the  precepts  of  Christ.  This  only 
will  enable  you  to  triumph  over  sickness, 
poverty,  and  death. 

Have  you  not  felt  the  truth  of  this  asser- 
tion in  the  death  of  the  old  man  I  have  told 
you  of?  Let  us  strive  to  imitate  his  piety, 
that  we,  like  him,  by  "  living  soberly,  righte- 
ously, and  godly"  here,  may  "  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous." 

"  His  duty  done — as  sinks  the  clay. 

Light  from  its  load  the  spirit  flies  ; 
While  heaven  and  earth  combine  to  say, 
'  Sweet  is  the  scene  when  virtue  dies.7  " 


5-2 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    FAITHFUL    GUIDES  ;      OR,    A    WALK 
THROUGH  THE  COAL  MINE. 

ONE  pleasant  morning  in  April,  I  was 
sailing  up  the  Ohio  river  in  a  steam  boat. 
As  I  sat  at  the  breakfast  table,  I  heard  them 
say  on  the  deck,  "  There  it  is,  there  it  is!" 
I  immediately  went  up,  and  found  that  the 
object  which  produced  this  exclamation  was 
the  city  of  Pittsburg,  beautifully  situated  be- 
tween two  rivers. 

The  Alleghany  flowed  on  one  side,  and 
the  Monongahela  on  the  other  ;  and  their 
united  streams  formed  the  Ohio  river.  On 
one  side  there  was  along  range  of  high  hills, 
which  looked  very  beautifully,  as  the  trees 
were  in  full  blossom,  and  the  grass  was  very 
green.  On  my  arrival,  I  went  to  see  a  friend  ; 
and  after  visiting  a  great  many  places,  we 
agreed  the  next  day  to  go  and  see  a  coal 
mine. 


THE    COAL    MINE.  63 

Early  the  next  morning  we  set  out,  and 
having  crossed  the  river  by  a  bridge,  we  be- 
gan to  ascend  a  high  mountain.  After  walk- 
ing some  time  along  a  winding  road,  we 
turned  to  the  left,  and  came  to  some  low 
log  huts,  in  front  of  which  was  a  long  plat- 
form of  boards  covered  with  coal,  and  on  the 
lower  side  were  some  carts  into  which  they 
were  shoveling  it.  At  the  end  was  a  square 
hole,  cut  into  the  mountain,  of  about  five 
feet  high  and  four  wide,  which  was  the  en- 
trance to  the  mine.  We  stopped  at  one  of 
the  huts  and  asked  for  a  candle,  when  two 
little  boys,  one  five  and  the  other  about  seven 
years  old,  ran  up  and  said  they  would  show 
us  the  way  through  the  mine.  The  en- 
trance at  the  side  of  the  mountain  was  so 
low,  that  we  were  obliged  to  take  off  our 
hats  and  stoop,  in  order  to  follow  our  little 
guides.  After  we  had  proceeded  some  dis- 
tance, we  stopped  to  look  around  us.  On 
all  sides  we  saw  coal  ;  and  the  roof,  also  of 
coal,  was  supported  by  wooden  pillars.  The 
light  which  our  guides  carried  fairly  illumi- 
nated this  subterranean  abode,  and  the  glit- 
tering of  the  coal  produced  a  novel  effect. 

We  passed  a  great  many  avenues  cut  in 


r. 


THE    COAL    MINE.  55 

the  sides,  which  were  entrances  to  other 
mines,  and  which  opened  on  different  sides 
of  the  mountain.  Some  of  them  were  damp 
and  mouldy,  as  they  had  been  dug  many 
years ;  and  in  others  we  could  hear  them 
digging  a  great  way  off.  In  a  few  moments 
we  heard  a  noise  in  one  of  the  side  mines, 
and  were  told  that  one  of  the  carts  was  com- 
ing, and  we  stopped  to  see  it.  Presently  a 
little  boy,  twelve  years  old,  came  dragging  a 
small  cart  on  four  wheels,  loaded  with  coal, 
a  woman  and  a  young  girl  about  fourteen 
years  of  age,  were  pushing  behind.  As  soon 
as  the  boy  saw  us  he  pulled  off  his  cap  and 
bade  us  good  morning,  and  inquired  if  we 
were  going  through  the  mine.  We  answered 
yes;  "then,"  said  he,  "I  will  go  with  you, 
for  Johnny  and  Willey  do  not  know  the  way 
well  enough,  and  they  will  lead  you  wrong. " 
So  saying,  he  took  a  piece  of  candle  from  his 
cart,  and  told  us  to  follow  him,  leaving  the 
woman  and  girl,  who  were  his  mother  and 
sister,  (which  was  a  sad  sight  indeed  to  me) 
to  draw  the  cart  out  of  the  mine,  which  they 
said  they  were  perfectly  willing  to  do. 

Our  new  guide  talked  a  great  deal,  and 
very  fast.     As  we  passed  the  different  ave- 
4 


56  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

nues  where  they  had  dug  in  from  the  princi- 
pal mine,  he  told  us  all  about  them.  "  Here," 
said  he,  pointing  to  one  avenue,  "  is  where 
uncle  William  digs,  and  the  next  is  where 
father  digs,  and  the  other,  where  John 
works ;  and  this  one  was  dug  a  great  many 
years  ago.  and  they  do  not  work  in  it  now." 

At  last  we  came  to  a  large  open  space, 
which  appeared  like  a  room.  It  had  been 
dug  out,  and  large  pillars  of  coal  had  been 
left  to  support  the  roof.  It  was  about  five 
feet  high.  A  man  was  digging  at  one  side, 
surrounded  with  coal,  as  we  entered  this 
room.  The  coal  glistened  brightly  around 
us,  reflecting  the  light  of  our  candle,  but  it 
appeared  a  dark  and  gloomy  place. 

We  asked  him  what  he  was  digging ;  and 
he  replied,  "  that  he  had  dug  a  large,  narrow 
strip  near  the  floor,  and  was  then  making  a 
small  hole  above,  and  intended  to  put  some 
powder  in  it,  and  on  the  explosion,  a  large 
strip  of  coal  would  be  thrown  down  at  once, 
and  fall  in  pieces,  and  thus  a  great  deal 
would  be  ready  to  cart  out  in  a  short  time." 
After  talking  a  short  time  with  the  man,  we 
continued  our  walk. 

In  a  few  moments  we  heard  a  cart  coming, 


58  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

and  therefore  stopped  at  an  open  place 
where  the  passage  would  be  wide  enough  to 
let  the  cart  pass,  (for  a  great  part  of  the  way 
it  was  only  wide  enough  for  the  cart  alone,) 
and  in  a  few  moments  it  came  up  to  us. 
It  was  drawn  by  a  very  small  horse,  and 
there  was  a  man  sitting  on  the  front  of  the 
cart.  He  stopped  when  he  came  up  to  us 
and  conversed  some  time,  and  told  us  how 
many  years  he  had  worked  in  the  mine ; 
and  related  a  great  many  things  which  I 
have  not  time  to  tell  you  now.  He  then 
bade  us  good  bye,  and  we  separated. 

Soon  after  we  came  to  a  part,  where  a 
large  square  place  had  been  cleared  away, 
and  a  man  was  digging  at  the  side,  sur- 
rounded with  coal.  At  one  place  we  saw  a 
small  hole,  and  there  our  little  guides  got  on 
their  hands  and  knees,  and  told  us  to  follow, 
which  we  did,  climbing  over  a  large  heap  of 
coal.  There  was  just  room  enough  to  allow 
our  creeping  through. 

It  appeared,  as  we  were  told  by  our  guide, 
that  some  time  ago,  the  top  of  the  mine  fell 
down,  and  filled  up  the  passage  for  some 
distance,  leaving  only  space  enough  to  al- 
low one  to  pass  through  by  getting  on  his 


THE    COAL    MINE.  59 

hands  and  knees.  As  we  went  through,  we 
came  to  a  wide  open  place,  where  the  coal 
had  fallen  down,  and  there  were  then  pieces 
hanging  loosely  over  our  heads.  We  pass- 
ed rapidly  on,  and  most  of  the  way  it  was 
damp  and  mouldy,  and  appeared  not  to  have 
been  entered  lately,  for  the  digging  had  been 
commenced  at  this  end  many  years  before. 

As  we  were  hastening  on,  and  inquiring 
how  much  farther  we  had  to  go,  we  came  to 
a  bend,  when  one  of  the  little  fellows  ex- 
claimed, "  There,  there  is  the  end  ;"  and  on 
looking,  we  could  distinguish  a  small  light 
at  a  great  distance  from  us,  and  after  walk- 
ing some  time,  we  reached  the  opening, 
having  passed,  as  the  lad  told  us,  one  mile 
in  nearly  a  direct  line,  and  almost  through 
the  mine. 

We  paid  our  attentive,  faithful  little 
guides,  and  bidding  them  good  bye,  they 
ran  back  very  happily  the  same  way  they 
came.  We  walked  a  short  distance,  and 
found  that  we  were  on  the  side  of  the  hill 
opposite  to  that  which  we  had  entered  half 
an  hour  before,  during  which  time  there 
had  been  over  our  heads  from  fifty  to  sixty 
feet  of  earth.  After  walking  a  little  time, 

4A 


60  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

we  sat  down  by  the  side  of  a  hut,  and  drank 
some  water  that  was  handed  us  by  a  poor 
woman.  We  rested  upon  this  high  hill,  view- 
ing the  pleasant  town  on  the  other  side  of  a 
river  flowing  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  As 
we  descended  and  breathed  the  sweet  fresh 
air  of  spring,  we  could  not  but  think  of  the 
great  contrast  between  these  fine  open  fields, 
and  the  dark  confined  place  we  had  just  left, 
and  pity  the  unfortunate  beings  who  are 
condemned  to  pass  their  lives  in  a  mine. 

Now,  my  dear  pupils,  have  you  ever 
thought  of  God's  goodness  in  thus  providing 
a  substance  for  the  use  of  man,  even  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  ?  He  not  only  makes 
trees  grow  to  furnish  him  the  means  of  com- 
fort during  the  winter,  but  he  has  also  form- 
ed another  material  to  answer  to  his  wants. 
Wherever  we  look,  we  find  proofs  of  his 
wisdom  and  goodness,  as  well  as  his  power. 

I  came  out  of  that  dark  and  unwholesome 
place,  into  the  bright  light  of  day.  The 
sky,  the  air,  the  movement  of  the  trees, 
filled  my  heart  with  gratitude,  and  I  thank- 
ed God  that  our  lot  had  not  been  cast  with 
those  poor  people.  And  yet  if  we  fail  to  use 
our  privileges  rightly,  we  shall  be  the  proper 


THE    COAL   MINE.  61 

objects  of  their  pity.  If  we  who  have  such 
helps  to  goodness,  happiness,  and  grati- 
tude,— we  who  have  cheerful  homes  in  the 
blessed  light  of  day,  and  indulgent  parents, 
and  kind  teachers,  and  are  permitted  the  en- 
joyment of  every  innocent  pleasure, — are 
thoughtless  and  ungrateful;  if  when  the 
winter  storm  beats  against  our  windows, 
and  we  sit  by  the  pleasant  coal  fire,  we  for- 
get the  Being  who  makes  us  thus  comfort- 
able, and  how  many  there  are  working  hard, 
day  after  day  for  us,  in  order  that  we  may 
have  this  coal ;  if  we  forget  this,  then  these 
poor  children  may  look  with  compassion 
on  us. 

But  no,  we  will  not  be  insensible  to  God's 
goodness  ;  but  each  returning  day  our  hearts 
shall,  like  that  of  the  Psalmist,  exclaim, 
"  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  forget  not 
all  his  benefits,  who  crowneth  thee  with 
loving  kindness  and  tender  mercies.'5 


4u 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    TWO    TEMPLES. 

MANY  years  ago  there  lived  an  old  man 
who  was  very  wise  and  good,  and  he  was 
appointed  king  over  the  land  where  he  re- 
sided. In  the  course  of  time  he  grew  aged 
and  infirm,  and  when  he  was  about  to  die, 
he  called  his  son  to  him  to  give  him  some 
advice  before  he  should  leave  the  world. 
He  told  his  son  to  be  good;  and  above  eve- 
ry thing  else,  to  love  the  Lord  his  God,  for 
the  Lord  made  him,  and  gave  him  every 
thing  he  possessed,  and  that  he  knew  even 
his  thoughts  and  all  his  ways.  He  told  him 
also,  that  if  he  looked  up  and  prayed  to 
that  Being,  He  would  listen  to  and  help 
him,  and  never  forget  him. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  old  man  died,  and 
his  son  succeeded  him  and  was  made  king. 
His  son  was  a  wise  prince,  and  kept  the 
r>eor>le  in  peace  while  he  reigned.  He  re- 


THE    TWO    TEMPLES.  63 

membered  what  his  father  had  told  him,  and 
in  the  course  of  a  few  years  he  built  a  large 
temple,  or  meeting-house,  for  the  Lord, 
where  the  people  might  assemble  and  praise 
him  together. 

Now  this  temple  was  not  a  common  one, 
like  ours,  but  was  much  larger.  It  was  very 
long,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  was  a  steeple 
that  was  quite  high,  and  in  front  was  a 
very  large  portico  and  a  flight  of  steps  to 
enter  it.  It  was  far  more  splendid  than 
any  we  have. 

A  large  part  of  the  house,  and  the  altar 
where  the  commandments  on  stone  were 
placed,  were  covered  with  gold ;  and  in 
various  parts  were  carved  images  and  orna- 
mental work,  which  made  it  appear  very 
magnificent. 

They  were  seven  years  building  this 
temple,  and  when  it  was  done,  the  king 
called  all  the  rulers  and  the  chief  officers 
and  governors  of  the  land  together,  to  dedi- 
cate it  to  the  Lord,  (in  the  same  manner  as 
we  assemble  the  ministers  and  people  to 
dedicate  our  churches.) 

There  were  thousands  of  people  assem- 
bled ;  and  it  was  the  custom  in  those  days 


64  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

to  kill  animals,  and  offer  them  upon  an  al- 
tar as  a  token  of  gratitude  to  the  Almighty, 
and  as  a  sign  that  they  considered  him  as 
Jehovah,  and  that  there  was  no  other  God. 
At  the  dedication  of  this  temple,  "  the  king 
offered  a  sacrifice  of  peace  offering  unto 
the  Lord,  of  two-and-twenty  thousand  ox- 
en, and  an  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
sheep." 

Now  this  temple  was  not  dedicated  in  a 
day,  but  the  king  kept  the  people  together 
fourteen  days;  and  on  the  first  day  he  made 
an  address,  and  told  the  people  that  this 
was  the  Lord's  temple,  and  that  they  must 
serve  him. 

I  was  reading  about  this  not  long  since, 
and  as  I  read  of  the  carved  work,  the  gold 
and  silver  candlesticks,  and  the  many  splen- 
did things  that  were  there,  I  could  not  but 
think  what  a  beautiful  building  it  must  have 
been,  and  how  I  should  have  admired  to  have 
seen  it.  You  have  probably  heard  about 
this  before.  The  old  man  I  have  told  you 
of  was  named  David  ;  and  his  son,  the  king 
who  built  the  temple,  was  Solomon,  and  the 
temple  was  called  Solomon's  Temple,  after 
his  name. 


THE    TWO  TEMPLES.  65 

My  pupils,  you  constantly  attend  a  Sun- 
day school,  and  do  you  know  that  you  go 
there  to  build  a  far  nobler  and  more  enduring 
temple  than  that  I  have  told  you  of?  When 
there,  you  rise  up  and  look  to  your  Father, 
and  ask  him  to  help  you  do  his  will.  What 
is  his  will?  His  will  is  that  we  love 
Him  entirely,  and  each  other  as  we  do  our- 
selves ;  that  we  should  do  as  we  would  be 
done  by,  and  gradually  add  new  and  living 
virtues  to  our  characters,  thus  forming  a 
temple  in  our  hearts,  where  God  may  de- 
light to  dwell ;  an  altar  of  love,  where  every 
selfish  and  harsh  feeling  may  be  sacrificed, 
and  the  commandments  be  there  engraven, 
not  on  perishable  stone,  but  on  the  immor- 
tal mind. 

Yes,  my  pupils,  we  were  placed  in  this 
world  to  perform  this  work,  to  build  this 
temple,  "  to  purify  ourselves  as  he  is  pure," 
to  devote  every  faculty  of  our  mind,  every 
feeling  of  our  heart,  to  His  service  and  to 
His  glory.  If  we  do  this,  then  He  will  dwell 
in  us,  His  spirit  will  be  with  us. 

Where  is  Solomon's  temple  now  ?  Where 
is  the  gold,  where  is  the  altar,  where  are 
those  stones  that  it  took  so  many  years  to 


66  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

lay  ?  They  have  all  gone — they  have  crum- 
bled to  the  dust.  How  strange  it  seems 
that  so  beautiful  and  strong  a  building 
should  not  have  stood  while  the  world  lasts. 
But  it  is  otherwise  ordered  :  every  thing 
here  grows  old,  and  disappears ;  nothing  is 
fixed ;  and  in  a  few  years  every  thing  around 
us  will  decay.  The  men,  women,  and  child- 
ren, now  on  the  earth  ;  the  houses,  church- 
es, and  splendid  buildings,  now  standing; 
will  pass  away  as  those  which  have  stood 
in  Solomon's  day. 

Yes,  all  that  is  mortal  will  pass  away; 
but  not  so  the  temple  within  our  hearts,  not 
so  the  goodness  and  the  virtues  which  adorn 
the  soul.  When  we  see  men  labouring  to 
build  great  houses,  and  purchase  rich  fur- 
niture, we,  too,  can  say  that  we  have  an  ob- 
ject to  work  for ;  one  that  deserves  q.11  the 
time  and  labour  we  can  give.  We,  too, 
have  a  master  to  serve,  one  who  regards 
our  humblest  efforts  to  do  right,  with  bene- 
volence and  love. 

All  we  do  for  Him  is  remembered,  and 
will  not  be  lost ;  no  act  of  kindness,  not  a 
word,  not  a  feeling  of  affection,  is  overlook- 
ed with  Him;  but  every  day,  every  hour, 


THE   TWO    TEMPLER.  07 

adds  something  to  those  treasures  which 
will  adorn  the  temple  dedicated  to  God, 
which  we  have  raised  in  our  hearts;  that 
temple,  not  built  of  stone,  of  wood,  or  of 
brick,  but  piety,  holiness,  and  goodness 
must  be  its  pillars,  and  its  foundation  laid 
in  love  to  God,  and  love  to  our  fellow  men. 

Can  we,  you  will  ask,  build  this  enduring 
temple?  Yes,  we  can,  whatever  our  faults 
may  be,  and  none  of  us  are  without  them. 
Go  with  humility  to  God,  tell  him  your 
wants,  ask  him  to  assist  you;  keep  a  watch 
over  this  temple  you  are  building,  examine 
your  conduct  every  night,  and  try  to  disco- 
ver your  motives.  You  will  sometimes  find 
your  best  actions  had  an  unworthy  motive, 
and  that  instead  of  congratulation,  you  de- 
serve reproof. 

The  plan  of  examining  at  night  what  you 
have  done  during  the  day,  will  lead  you  to 
do  well ;  and  when  you  discover  any  faults, 
you  must  labor  unceasingly  to  correct 
them  ;  and  you  will  often  be  surprised  to 
find  how  much  you  do  that  is  wrong,  and 
often  your  sins  will  be  difficult  to  overcome. 
But,  "fear  not,  little  flock,"  says  Jesus,  "I 
am  with  you."  Fear  not,  rny  pupils,  his  ex- 


68  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

ample  is  forever  with  you.  His  obedience 
to  his  parents,  his  affection  to  his  brethren 
and  friends,  his  courage  in  danger,  his  for- 
titude in  suffering,  his  gratitude  to  every 
benefactor,  are  handed  down  to  us — yes, 
his  love  offers  us  a  guide  on  earth,  and  his 
love  has  gained  for  us  a  home  in  heaven. 

" '  Sec  how  he  lov:d  !'  exclaim'd  the  Jews, 

As  tender  tears  from  Jesus  fell : 
My  grateful  heart  the  thought  pursues, 
And  on  the  theme  delights  to  dwell. 

See  how  he  loved,  who  died  for  man, 
Who  labour'd  hard,  and  much  endur'd, 

To  finish  the  all-gracious  plan 

Which  life  and  heaven  to  man  secured. 

Such  love  can  we  unmoved  survey  ? 

O  may  our  breasts  with  ardour  glow, 
To  tread  his  steps,  his  laws  obey, 

And  thus  our  warm  affection  show." 


69 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  UNKIND  BROTHER  ;  OR,  THE  NAUTILUS. 

A  FEW  years  ago,  I  went  to  pass  the  Sab- 
bath in  the  country.  It  was  at  the  house  of 
a  friend,  who  is  the  father  of  a  boy  and  girl 
whom  he  loves  very  much.  They  both  at- 
tend the  Sunday  school,  but  the  boy  is  a 
better  scholar  than  the  girl;  he  remembers, 
said  my  friend,  all  that  he  hears,  and  often 
repeats  the  good  advice  of  his  teacher  'at 
home.  My  little  Emily  behaves  well,  how- 
ever, said  the  mother,  and  from  this,  I  feel 
assured  she  profits  by  what  is  told  her, 
though  she  talks  less  about  it  than  William. 
The  two  children  came  in  while  we  were 
speaking,  and  we  changed  the  conversation. 

I  rose  early  the  next  morning,  to  enjoy  a 
solitary  walk  in  the  garden  before  the  fami- 
ly were  up.  I  love  to  rise  early  at  all  times, 
for  the.  morning  of  the  day  is  like  the  morn- 
ingof  life,  full  of  freshness  and  sweets;  but 


70  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

above  all,  I  always  rise  early  on  the  Sab- 
bath. In  these  silent  hours,  I  feel  a  more 
intimate  communion  with  God,  and  a  deep- 
er sense  of  my  own  unworthiness. 

I  had  been  walking  up  and  down  the  al- 
leys for  some  time,  enjoying  with  grateful 
heart  the  beauties  around  me,  when  I  heard 
the  following  conversation  between  William 
and  Emily. 

"Do  let  me  go  with  you,  William  ;  I  want 
to  see  Sarah  very  much,  and  it  is  quite  un- 
certain, you  know,  when  I  can  go  if  1  do 
not  now ;  to-morrow  I  shall  go  to  Aunt's, 
and  then  I  may  not  be  back  for  six  weeks ; 
do,  William,  take  me  with  you."  "No, 
Emily,"  said  William,  "  you  will  be  a  care  to 
me ;  you  will  want  me  to  walk  to  Mr.  Par- 
sons' with  you."  "No,  I  shall  not,"  an- 
swered Emily;  "I  merely  want  you  to  let 
me  go  with  you  in  the  chaise  to  the  meet- 
ing-house, and  then  I  shall  see  Sarah,  and 
go  home  and  dine  with  her,  and  go  in  the 
afternoon  to  the  Sunday  school.  I  will  not 
.give  you  the  least  touble  ;  and  if  I  do  not 
go,  you  will  ride  alone,  and  all  I  wish  is,  to 
#it  by  your  side  going  and  returning — and  I 


THE    UNKIND    BROTHER.  71 

want  very  much  to  go,  and  mamma  will  be 
willing,  if  I  ask  her,  I  know." 

"You  shall  go  some  other  time,"  said 
William,  "  I  will  ask  for  the  chaise,  and 
drive  you  some  week  day,  and  we  will  have 
a  good  time."  "  But,  William,  you  cannot 
do  this;  you  go  to  school  on  week  days,  and 
you  are  not  able  to  find  a  moment  to  do 
the  least  thing  for  me  now ;  you  know  you 
are  always  in  a  hurry,  either  studying  your 
lesson,  or  helping  other  boys,  and  you  ne- 
ver get  time  to  be  at  home  with  me ;  and 
now  this  is  such  a  good  opportunity,  and 
papa  is  willing,  and  it  will  be  so  kind  in 
you, — do,  dear  William,"  cried  the  affection- 
ate little  girl,  in  a  tone  of  earnest  entreaty. 
"  No,"  said  William,  "  you  will  be  a  care 
upon  me  ;  I  will  take  you  some  other  time." 

Here  they  perceived  me,  and  stopped.  I 
bade  them  good  morning,  and  we  walked  to 
the  house  together.  After  breakfast,  I  ob- 
served the  servant  bring  the  chaise  to  the 
door,  and  William  jumped  in,  nodded  to 
Emily,  who  stood  at  the  window,  and  drove 
off.  A  few  moments  after,  Emily  came 
down  stairs,  dressed  to  go  to  the  Sunday 
school.  "  Where  is  William,"  said  I.  "He 


72  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

has  gone  to  see  a  friend,  and  to  visit  a  Sun- 
day school,  about  five  miles  off — father  has 
lent  him  the  chaise,  and  he  will  be  back  to- 
night." "  And  you  wished  to  go  too  ;  was 
it  not  so,  Emily?"  She  looked  up  to  me, 
smiling  between  tears,  and  said,  "Yes,  sir; 
but  it  is  no  matter  ;"  and  she  passed  out  of 
the  gate,  caressing  the  dog  as  she  went. 
"  No,  Rover,  you  must  not  come — I  am  sor- 
ry, Rover,"  said  she,  gently  disengaging  her- 
self from  him,  and  shutting  him  in, "you must 
not  come,  I  dare  not  let  you,  but  I  would  not 
refuse  you  if  I  could  help  it ;"  and  with  a  full 
heart  she  ran  off,  while  the  faithful  Rover, 
as  if  understanding  her,  after  looking  wish- 
fully a  few  moments,  and  wagging  his  tail 
in  token  of  obedience,  laid  down  again. 

Our  day  passed  pleasantly ;  little  Emily 
returned  home  in  fine  spirits;  and  immedi- 
ately came  to  us,  and  began  to  tell  what  she 
had  seen  and  heard  at  the  Sunday  school. 

"  I  have  had  a  delightful  day,  father," 
said  she  ;  "  Mr. told  us  about  a  won- 
derful little  animal,  called  the  Nautilus.  It 
is  a  complete  representation  of  a  vessel,  and 
has  sails,  and  oars ;"  and  here  she  related 
all  that  she  could  remember  of  the  lesson. 


THE  NAUTILUS.  73 

Just  about  sunset,  we  heard  the  chaise 
coming ;  Emily  exclaimed,  "  William  has 
got  home,"  and  ran  to  the  door.  My 
friend  and  I  were  standing  there  at  the 
time.  Emily  immediately  ran  to  William, 
and  after  inquiring  how  Sarah  was,  she 
told  him  what  a  pleasant  time  she  had  at 
the  Sunday  school.  "Yes,  I  had  a  delight- 
ful day,  and  Mr.  was  much  pleased 

with  my  answers  to  his  questions;"  and  then 
she  began  to  repeat  to  William  what  she 
had  heard. 

"Come  here,  Emily,"  said  I,  "I  see  you 
want  William  to  know  about  this  curious 
animal,  called  the  Nautilus,  and  I  will  tell 
him  about  it,  and  you  can  help  me." 

I  remember  reading  some  time  ago,  in  a 
volume  of  Buffon's  Natural  History,  an  ac- 
count of  this  animal.  It  is  called  by  sailors 
the  Portuguese  man-of-war,  and  is  one  of 
the  most  wonderful  of  the  works  of  God. 
It  is  a  worm  about  six  or  eight  inches  long, 
and  has  a  white  shell  which  is  as  thin  as 
paper,  and  looks  like  a  snail.  The  inside 
of  the  shell  is  divided  into  forty  parti- 
tions. Its  body,  when  taken  from  the  shell, 
which  it  often  leaves,  resembles  a  number 
5 


74  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

of  soft  pieces  of  flesh,  and  is  divided  into  as 
many  parts  as  there  are  chambers  in  its 
shell.  All  these  parts  of  the  body  are  con- 
nected by  a  membrane  or  long  blood-vessel, 
that  runs  from  the  head  to  the  tail,  of  which 
there  are  forty,  threaded  as  it  were  upon  a 
string. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  the  Nautilus  ;  but 
the  one  I  now  speak  of  is  often  found  in 
the  Mediterranean,  and  few  have  ever  sailed 
on  that  sea  that  have  not  seen  them. 

The  most  singular  thing  about  the  Nauti-" 
lus,  is  its  sailing  and  guiding  its  shell  like 
a  ship.     I  will  endeavour  to  tell  you  how  it 
docs  tliis. 

God  has  furnished  the  Nautilus  with  eight 
feet,  which  are  near  its  mouth.     A  part  of 
fret  are  connected  to  each  other  by  a 
thin  skin,  like  that  between  the  toes  of  a 
duck,  but    much    thinner.     The  feet    thus 
connected  are  short,  and  when  it  wishes  to 
sail,  it  empties  the  water  out  of  the  shell, 
and  turns  over  on  the  back  of  the  shell,  and 
kes  that  the  vessel,  and  then  holds  up  its 
1 1  legs ;  the  partition  between  catches  the 
wind  and  answers  for  sails  ;   like  the  pic- 
ture on  the    next  page.     These  sails   are 


THE    NAUTILUS. 


75 


1  It  is  called  by  sailors  the  Portuguese  man-of  war," 


76  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

beautifully  marked  with  pink  and  blue,  and 
many  other  colours.  The  other  legs,  which 
are  long,  are  held  down,  and  serve  as  oars 
to  steer  with.  It  has  also  two  long  fibres, 
which  are  delicate  and  elastic,  and  these 
serve  as  anchors,  by  which  they  fasten 
themselves  to  rocks ;  these  are  spiral,  and 
wind  round  like  a  cork  screw,  and  are  won- 
derfully adapted  for  this  purpose. 

When  the  weather  is  calm,  and  the  Nau- 
tilus is  pursued  by  any  thing,  it  is  then  seen 
with  only  part  of  its  sails  up,  and  rowing 
with  the  others ;  and  whenever  it  fears  any 
thing  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  it  instantly 
furls  its  sails,  catches  in  all  its  oars,  turns 
its  shell  mouth  downward,  which  soon  fills 
with  water,  and  thus  being  too  heavy  to  float, 
it  sinks  to  the  bottom.  The  Nautilus  has 
been  seen  pumping  the  water  out  of  its 
leaking  shell  in  an  ingenious  way,  as  men 
would  pump  from  a  leaky  ship ;  and  when 
its  vessel  is  not  longer  fit  for  sailing,  it 
leaves  it  entirely,  and  the  forsaken  hulk  is 
seen  floating  along,  till  it  dashes  upon  the 
rocks  or  the  shore.  Thus  you  see  how 
curious  and  wonderful  is  the  formation  of 
this  little  animal. 


THE  NAUTILUS.  77 

Men  have  always  regarded  navigation  as 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  discoveries  ;  one 
of  which  they  might  justly  be  proud.  And 
that  is  certainly  a  wonderful  power  that 
man  is  endowed  with,  which  enables  him  to 
take  the  trees  from  the  forest,  and  build  with 
them  the  beautiful  ship,  and  launch  this 
heavy  mass  into  the  water,  and  then  guide 
it  over  the  sea  to  distant  parts  of  the  world. 

But  here  we  see  a  little  animal,  destitute 
of  mind,  guiding  and  balancing  on  the 
waves  the  vessel  which  God  has  committed 
to  its  care. 

"  What  a  lesson  of  humility,  my  children," 
said  I,  "  does  God  teach  us  in  this  animal. 
How  little,  how  insignificant  we  are,  even 
when  we  know  the  most."  I  looked  at 
William,  "yes,  we  are  indeed  nothing,  and 
less  than  nothing,  in  the  universe  where 
God  has  placed  us,  and  yet  we  have  the 
presumption  to  imagine  ourselves  too  often 
something  very  important.  Our  life  is  but  a 
moment,  comparativelyspeaking,  but  instead 
of  improving  it  by  making  others  happy,  in- 
stead of  seizing  every  opportunity  to  give 
pleasure,  we  often  by  our  selfishness  lose 
these  golden  opportunities,  which  once  lost 
GA 


78  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

can  never  return.  Our  wisdom,  even  the 
wisdom  of  the  wisest,  sinks  into  ignorance 
before  the  worm  we  crush  ;  it  is  by  being 
good  and  kind  alone,  that  we  are  allied  to 
the  angels  and  children  of  the  Most  High. 

The  Bee,  the  Ant,  and  the  Nautilus,  have 
a  sagacity  which  men  at  best  can  only  imi- 
tate. But  Jesus  tells  us,  a  cup  of  cold 
water  given  to  a  sufferer,  a  kind  word,  a 
request,  perhaps  trifling  in  itself,  readily 
granted,  will  be  remembered  in  heaven,  and 
meet  the  approbation  of  our  Father." 

As  I  concluded,  my  eyes  rested  on  Wil- 
liam, and  he  deeply  felt  the  reproof.  More 
than  two  years  have  passed  since  then,  and 
he  tells  me,  that  often  when  he  has  been  on 
the  point  of  refusing  to  do  a  kindness,  the 
remembrance  of  the  feelings  of  that  moment 
have  come  over  him,  and  he  has  checked 
the  selfish  emotion ;  and  now  he  is,  I  am 
delighted  to  say,  not  only  the  most  obliging 
and  estimable  boy  in  school,  but  what  is 
even  more  important,  the  most  disinterested 
*imJ  least  selfish  at  hornr. 


79 


CHAPTER  X. 

SATURDAY    AFTERNOON  ;    OR,    A    SABBATH    IN 
THE    COUNTRY. 

DID  you  ever  think  what  an  interesting 
time  Saturday  afternoon  is  ;  when  your  stu- 
dies at  the  school  are  ended  for  the  week, 
and  you  have  received  the  ticket  from  your 
instructers,  showing  what  progress  you  have 
made  ?  How  happy,  too,  is  that  hour  when 
your  little  associates  meet  to  play  with  you, 
and  the  time  passes  swiftly  away,  till  some 
one  knocks  at  the  door  and  tells  you  it  is 
time  to  be  at  home. 

This  hour  is  pleasant  to  all  ;  the  day  la- 
bourer then  returns  to  his  home,  with  his 
tools  on  his  shoulder,  and  rejoices  that  the 
morrow  will  be  a  day  of  rest :  the  merchant, 
too,  is  glad  when  this  time  arrives,  that  he 
may  lay  aside  his  cares  of  business  and  en- 
joy a  day  of  quiet  and  peace.  Some  leave 
the  noise  of  the  city,  and  before  the  sun  sets 

5B 


TEACHER  S    GIFT. 

on  this  day,  they  hasten  into  the  country, 
where  all  is  still.  There  is  no  incident  in 
our  lives  from  which  we  may  not  derive 
some  lesson  of  instruction  ;  and  with  this 
impression,  I  will  venture  to  relate  to  you 
my  Sabbath  visit  to  a  neighbouring  town. 

Early  one  Saturday  afternoon  I  went  on 
board  a  steam-boat,  and  soon  after  we 
started  we  saw  the  city  with  the  spires  of 
its  churches  rising  from  every  part.  The 
vessels  lay  at  the  wharves,  and  the  hills  were 
seen  rising  at  a  distance  far  behind  us.  The 
little  boats  were  sailing  about  in  every  di- 
rection, and  some  vessels  were  parting  from 
the  wharves  just  ready  to  go  to  sea  ;  and  oth- 
ers were  seen  at  a  distance,  returning  from 
different  parts  of  the  world.  The  cattle 
were  grazing  on  the  islands,  the  sea-birds 
were  flying  around  the  rocks  near  the 
shore,  and  now  and  then  a  fish  would  jump 
out  of  the  water.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight, 
and  such  as  I  cannot  fully  describe. 

How  soothing  is  such  a  scene  to  the  mind  ; 
if  you  have  ever  beheld  the  sun  set  at  sea, 
has  it  not  calmed  your  spirits,  and  led 
your  thoughts  on  high  ?  I  doubt  not  it  has ; 
let  me  tell  you  always  to  observe  these 


82  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

scenes,  for  they  will  elevate  your  feelings 
and  raise  your  affections  to  the  source  of 
all  good. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  our  boat  touched 
the  shore.  The  full  moon  was  just  rising 
as  I  passed  over  the  rock  where  some  of 
the  first  settlers  landed  when  they  came  to 
America,  and  I  saw  by  the  light,  the  church 
they  erected  more  than  an  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ago. 

I  arose  early  in  the  morning,  and  soon 
the  family  assembled  and  the  servants  were 
called.  A  chapter  was  read,  the  morning 
petition  was  offered,  and  a  father's  blessing 
implored.  We  then  went  to  the  Sunday 
school,  where  there  were  many  children  en- 
gaged with  their  teachers.  In  the  after- 
noon we  attended  church.  There  was  some- 
thing interesting  to  me,  as  a  child  was 
there  presented  at  the  altar,  and  the  minis- 
ter took  it  in  his  arms  and  dedicated  it  to 
the  Lord,  and  we  united  in  the  psalmody 
of  the  village  choir.  The  minister  who 
preached,  was  quite  blind.  His  sermon  was 
very  interesting,  and  his  misfortune  added  to 
its  impression  as  he  stood  there,  the  messen- 
ger of  God,  and  uttered  his  commands  from 


VISIT    IN    THE    COUNTRY.  83 

the  deep  convictions  of  his  heart.  Yes,  my 
pupils,  that  good  man  was  full  of  gratitude, 
though  his  eyes  were  for  ever  closed  against 
this  bright  and  pleasant  world.  And  we, 
who  have  this  blessing ;  we,  who  sq^  the  sun, 
the  trees,  the  fields,  and  more  than  all,  the 
faces  of  our  dear  friends  ;  shall  we  not  be 
grateful  ?  There  was  something  there  that 
touched  the  heart — something  that  moved 
the  feelings ;  and  none  who  listened  could 
fail  to  learn. 

When  we  left  the  house  of  worship,  and 
went  forth  and  beheld  the  fair  green  fields, 
and  the  rich  fruit  of  autumn,  oh  !  who  could 
be  indifferent  to  the  lesson  that  came  home 
so  powerfully  to  the  heart?  Do  you  ask  me 
what  is  that  lesson?  It  is  this  : — It  will 
no  doubt  be  often  the  case,  my  pupils,  that 
you  will  spend  a  Sabbath  in  the  country  ; 
and  you  may  engage  in  the  services  in  the 
house  of  God  with  a  similar  interest,  and 
may  go  forth,  and  see  the  leaves  falling  to 
the  ground,  the  flowers  faded,  the  fruits  just 
being  gathered,  and  the  whistling  wind  may 
remind  you  that  winter  is  approaching. 
You,  too,  may  see  the  sun  set,  and  watch 
the  beauties  of  the  ocean  and  the  earth  ;  and 


84  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

should  you,  then  let  your  thoughts  be  raised 
to  the  author  of  all  you  see ;  let  these  feel- 
ings go  with  you  from  your  meditation,  and 
mingle  in  all  your  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments ;  let  them  lead  your  heart  to  Him  who 
is  with  you  always,  and  who  promises  that 
all  his  good  and  faithful  children  who  de- 
light to  think  of  his  goodness,  and  meditate 
on  his  power  here,  shall  enjoy  his  presence 
hereafter. 

"  I  hear  it  in  the  rushing  wind, 

The  hills  that  have  for  ages  stood, 

And  clouds,  with  gold  and  silver  lined, 

All  still  repeat  that  God  is  good. 

The  restless  main,  with  haughty  roar, 
Calms  each  wild  wave  and  billow  rude  , 

Retreats  submissive  from  the  shore, 
And  joins  the  chorus,  God  is  good. 

The  moon  that  walks  in  brightness  says, 
That  God  is  good  :  and  man,  endued 

With  power  to  speak  his  Maker's  praise, 
Should  still  repeat  that  God  is  good." 


85 


CHAPTER   XI. 

SINGING  ;     OR,    THE    PRESENT    TO    A    SCHOOL* 


How  pleasant  it  is  to  unite  in 

i 

Jit  a  Sunday  school.  It  is  delightful  to  hear 
the  soft  voices  of  children  joined  in  praise 
to  their  Maker,  and  it  cannot  fail  to  touch 
the  hearts  of  all  who  listen.  I  have  some- 
times asked  myself,  as  I  saw  a  whole  school 
arise  to  sing  their  morning  hymn,  what  is 
the  object  of  singing  ?  Is  it  simply  to  hear 
those  sweet  and  thrilling  sounds  ?  or,  to  re- 
lieve from  fatigue  and  give  a  variety?  No, 
it  is  to  arouse  and  animate  to  a  closer  at- 
tention ;  and  by  a  variety  of  sound  to  pour 
forth  the  sentiment  of  the  hymn  with  a 
warmer  gratitude  to  God. 

My  pupils,  it  is  important  that  this  sub- 
ject should  be  understood  by  you  ;  and 
whon  you  do  understand  it,  you  will  engage 
in  it  with  greater  interest  and  pleasure. 
Music  animates  and  raises  our  devotional 


86  TEACHER  S    GIFT. 

feelings ;  but  it  is  not  excitement  only  that 
is  intended  by  this  service.  When  you  sing, 
you  utter  words,  and  these  words  convey 
thoughts,  and  to  whom  are  these  thoughts 
addressed  ?  to  God,  or  to  those  about  us  ? 

When  you  rise  up  to  pray,  to  whom  do 
you  speak  ?  you  know  without  my  telling 
you.  If  you  will  examine  the  hymns  gene- 
rally sung,  you  will  find  they  mostly  contain 
a  petition  for  some  blessing,  or  the  confes- 
sion of  some  sin ;  if  so,  is  it  not  a  part  of 
worship  ?  and  do  we  not  then  address  our 
Father  in  heaven  the  same  as  when  we  pray 
to  him  ? 

Take  the  following  verse  of  a  hymn  which 
is  so  often  sung  before  we  separate  at  school 
and  church,  as  an  example. 

"  Lord,  dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing, 

Hope  and  comfort  from  above, 
Let  us  each,  thy  peace  possessing 
Trust  in  thy  paternal  love." 

Now  what  do  we  ask  when  we  sing  this 
hymn?  We  pray  that  we  may  have  the 
blessing  of  our  Father  when  we  separate ; 
that  the  hope  and  comfort  which  comes 
from  above  may  be  enjoyed  by  us ;  that  we 
may  possess  a  heavenly  peace,  and  trust  in 


SINGING.  87 

our  Father's  love.  You  perceive  at  once, 
that  when  you  sing  this  hymn,  you  profess 
to  hold  communion  with  the  father  of  your 
spirit.  For  you  ask  him  to  impart  these 
blessings  to  you. 

That  you  may  understand  this  better,  let 
us  see  what  the  Bible  says  about  singing. 
You  remember  Paul  and  Silas  were  cast  into 
prison  ;  and  when  there,  they  sung  songs  of 
praise  to  God  ;  and  when  the  children  of  Is- 
rael passed  through  the  Red  sea,  they  sung  a 
hymn  of  praise  on  the  banks ;  and  was  it 
not  a  hymn  expressing  their  gratitude  for  a 
safe  deliverance  ?  If  you  will  read  the 
Psalms  of  David,  those  that  were  sung  at 
the  temple,  you  will  see  that  they  are  all 
addressed  to  the  Deity,  and  speak  of  his 
goodness,  power,  and  wisdom ;  and  those 
who  sung  them  worshipped  God. 

Remember,  therefore,  that  when  you  sing 
you  are  addressing  the  Deity.  Look  at  the 
words  of  the  hymn,  and  understand  them, 
and  let  your  heart  feel  the  sentiments  of  the 
hymn  while  you  utter  the  words.  Perhaps 
you  say  you  cannot  sing ;  but  this  is  no 
matter :  in  the  secret  silence  of  your  soul 


88  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

you  can  offer  your  hymn  of  praise ;  as  is 
beautifully  expressed  in  the  following  verse, 
from  one  of  Dr.  Watts's  hymns : 

"  Be  earth  with  all  its  scenes  withdrawn, 
Let  noise  and  vanity  be  gone  5 
hi  secret  silence  of  the  mind 
My  heaven  and  there  my  God  I  find." 

It  is  not  the  sound  that  is  observed  by  the 
Being  whom  you  address,  but  the  earnest- 
ness and  sincerity  with  which  you  think  of 
the  sentiments  or  thoughts  contained  in  the 

B 

hymn ;  and  he  knows  this,  for  he  is  the 
"  searcher  of  hearts.''  When  you  engage 
again  in  this  service,  my  pupils,  forget  not 
this,  and  you  will  soon  perceive  how  much 
this  adds  to  its  interest. 

Great  attention  has  been  paid,  in  some 
Sunday  schools,  to  this  part  of  the  exer- 
cises, and  the  children  often  meet  before 
commencing,  and  practise  with  some  one 
of  the  teachers.  Not  long  since,  the  super- 
intendent of  a  Sunday  school  explained  to 
the  children  the  object  and  design  of  sing- 
ing, to  which  they  paid  great  attention, 
and  have  since  then  engaged  in  this  ex- 


SINGING.  89 

ercise  with  great  interest  and  true  devotion  ; 
arid  now  you  would  be  delighted  to  see  this 
little  congregation  all  rise  and  join  in  the 
hymn,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  their  books, 
and  hear  their  litlte  voices  mingling  with 
their  teachers,  in  their  morning  and  even- 
ing hymn. 

One  Sabbath  a  gentleman  came  into  this 
school,  and  addressed  the  children,  and 
was  so  much  gratified  with  the  order  and 
attention,  that  at  the  request  of  the  super- 
intendent he  presented  him  with  the  follow- 
ing hymns  not  long  after.  They  are  in- 
tended to  be  sung  on  commencing  the  ser- 
vices in  the  morning,  and  before  separating 
in  the  afternoon.  Read  them,  my  pupils, 
bearing  in  mind,  that  when  they  are  sung 
they  are  addressed  to  the  Deity,  and  you 
will  see  how  much  this  adds  to  their  inter- 
est and  power. 

MORNING  HYMN. 

Our  Father,  here  again  we  raise 
To  thee  our  morning  hymn  of  praise, 
For  all  the  joys  thy  smiles  afford 
This  sacred  day — thy  holy  word. 


90  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

We  thank  thee,  Father,  that  to  thee 
Again  we  bend  the  lowly  knee  5 
That  here  in  peace  and  prayer  we  stand, 
Upheld  by  an  immortal  hand. 

Deep  may  each  word,  with  wisdom  fraught, 
Sink  in  each  heart  and  fill  each  thought  5 
Each  sullying  stain  of  sin  restore, 
And  guide  our  lives  till  life  is  o'er. 

Whate'er  we  do,  where'er  we  be, 
Keep  us  from  sin  and  error  free  j 
Thy  Sabbaths  may  we  so  improve, 
As  best  to  win  our  Father's  love. 

That  Father's  arm  our  souls  will  keep, 
Will  guard  our  steps,  will  watch  our  sleep; 
His  thought  each  lighter  thought  repress, 
His  word  will  guide,  his  love  will  bless. 

So  shall  we  then,  when  life  shall  end, 
A  nobler,  holier  Sabbath  spend ; 
Where  thy  good  children  all  shall  be 
Join'd  in  one  family  with  thee. 


EVENING  HYMN. 

As  fades  the  evening  light  away 
Along  the  glowing  western  sky, 

May  every  earthly  thought  to-day, 
Born  of  this  world,  in  brighter  die. 


HYMNS.  91 

And  may  the  teachings  of  thy  word 
This  day  received,  through  lite  remain  j 

Their  gentle  influence  still  afford 
To  soothe  each  woe,  to  calm  each  pain. 

Wilt  thou  be  with  us  when  apart, — 
Together,  wilt  thou  be  our  stay  j 

And  grave  upon  thy  children's  heart, 
The  lessons  of  this  holy  day. 

So  when  temptation's  evening  rolls 
Her  shadows  dim,  o'er  faith's  pure  sky, 

Shall  thy  blest  word  steal  o'er  our  souls, 
And  bid  the  gathering  darkness  fly. 

In  the  calm  twilight  of  the  soul, 
Let  their  blest  influence  be  given, 

Till  far  o'er  earth  and  sin's  control, 
We  leave  this  world;  to  rest  in  heaven. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

DISAPPOINTMENT  J    OR,   THE  BLIND  ORPHAN 
BOY. 

THERE  are  few  boys  or  girls  who  have 
not  met  with  disappointments.  But  while 
all  meet  them,  how  few  remember  that  they 
are  ordered  in  wisdom  ;  how  few  see  a  Fa- 
ther's hand  in  them,  and  consider  that  they 
are  sent  to  try  their  virtue.  This  remark  ap- 
plies to  the  most  trifling,  as  well  as  to  the 
greatest  disappointment.  How  often  does 
the  least  contradiction  cause  a  general  dis- 
cord in  a  family ;  how  often  does  a  shower 
of  rain  make  a  little  girl  cross  a  whole  after- 
noon. When  we  are  thus  unable  to  bear 
trifling  disappointments,  we  are  soon  quite 
unfit  for  great  ones.  Yet  disappointments 
will  come,  and  if  being  impatient  prevented 
them,  there  would  be  an  excuse  for  it ;  but  it 
only  makes  us  less  able  to  bear  them.  Let 
me  assure  you  that  we  have  that  within  us, 


THE    BLIND    ORPHAN    BOY.  93 

which  will  enable  us  to  endure  what  now 
seems  impossible,  and  meet  with  resignation 
that  which  seems  too  hard  to  be  borne.  In 
order  to  show  you  something  of  this  resig- 
nation, I  will  tell  you  of  a  little  boy  I  once 
knew,  and  have  often  seen  ;  and  you  will  see 
how  great  a  disappointment  he  met  with, 
and  how  trivial  ours  are  in  comparison 
with  his,  though  we  frequently  bear  them 
with  less  fortitude  than  he  did. 

His    name    was    William  ;     he    lived    in 

B ,  and  when  he  was  young  his  father 

and  mother  died,  and  he  went  to  live  with 
his  aunt,  who  kindly  offered  to  support  him. 
She  was  poor,  but  was  desirous  he  should 
be  a  good  boy,  so  she  sent  him  to  a  Sunday 
school.  After  he  had  been  there  some 
months,  his  aunt  found  it  necessary,  in 
order  that  he  might  aid  her  in  obtaining 
a  livelihood,  to  put  him  as  an  apprentice  to 
a  book-binder,  and  shortly  after  this  he  left 
the  Sunday  school.  While  he  attended 
there,  he  did  not  seem  to  try  much  to  learn, 
and  appeared  to  pay  but  little  attention  to 
what  was  told  him.  He  had  not  been  long 
at  his  trade,  before  he  began  to  feel  a  pain 
in  his  eyes.  Silent  and  uncomplaining,  he 


94  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

went  day  after  day  to  his  business,  and  car- 
ried home  his  earnings  every  Saturday  night 
to  his  aunt,  until  gradually  his  sight  began 
to  fail  him,  and  he  became  at  last  totally 
blind. 

Such  was  the  situation  of  his  aunt,  that  it 
was  often  not  in  her  power  to  do  more  than 
give  him  his  meals  in  bed  each  day,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  lie  there  some  times  many 
days  together.  Thus  confined,  and  depriv- 
ed of  exercise,  after  having  been  accustom- 
ed to  a  great  deal,  he  grew  weak  very  fast, 
and  pined  away,  and  this  was  not  all ;  long 
confinement  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his 
limbs,  and  he  was  unable  to  sit  up  without 
assistance.  It  was  an  affecting  sight  to  look 
at  him  on  his  sick  bed,  with  a  bright,  cheer- 
ful countenance,  his  eyes  now  gazing  round, 
and  now  apparently  fixed  on  surrounding 
objects,  and  yet  covered  with  an  impercep- 
tible veil,  which  shut  the  light  for  ever  from 
his  view.  .t 

William  had  a  little  cousin  who  l:i          / 
far  from  him,  who  felt  very  much  f*. 
and  used  to  go  every  day,  the  moment  his 
school  was  out,  and  sit  by  his  bedside  and 
read  to  him,  and  try  to  amuse  him.     He  was 


THE    BLIND    ORPHAN    BOY.  95 

with  him  nearly  all  the  time,  so  that  his 
friend  feared  that  if  he  did  not  play  more 
out  of  doors,  he  would  be  sick.  "  But  no," 
said  the  little  boy,  "  I  can  run  about  and 
can  see,  but  poor  William  is  blind  and  can 
hardly  sit  up,  he  is  so  weak,  and  I  want  to 
make  him  as  happy  as  I  can  ;"  so  he  kept 
faithfully  by  his  little  friend,  and  made  eve- 
ry effort  to  amuse  him. 

One  day  a  lady  who  lived  in  the  next 
house  happened  to  hear  of  William,  and 
went  in  to  see  him.  After  conversing  with 
him  some  time,  she  inquired  if  he  had  ever 
attended  a  Sunday  school,  to  which  he  re- 
plied, yes,  and  added  that  Mr.  B was 

his  teacher ;  and  on  being  asked  if  he  would 
like  to  see  him,  he  was  very  much  delighted, 
and  said  that  he  should.     The  lady  went  to 
the  teacher  and  told  him,  and  soon  after  he 
went  to  see  him.     William  conversed  with 
him  a  long  time,  and  told  him  all  that  had 
happened  since  he  left  the  Sunday  school; 
was  very  evident  that  the  instruction 
dvice  of  his  teacher  had  not  been  for- 
gotten by  him,  by  the  simplicity  and  plea- 
sure with  which  he  related  it.     And  never 
shall  I  forget  his  meek  and   gentle   reply 
GA 


9G  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

when  I  asked  him  what  he  desired  most: 
"That  if  God  were  willing,  he  prayed  that 
he  might  see  again."     You  can  better  ima- 
gine the  feelings  of  his  teacher,  and  how 
sad  he  was,  than  I  can  tell  you.     It  was  not 
for  him  to  look  idly  on  and  see  him  in  this 
situation.     Some  exertions  were  necessary, 
in  order  to  see  if  his  sight  and  his  strength 
could  not  be  restored  ;   and  these  exertions 
were  made.     His  teacher  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  plan  to  have  him  go  to  the  hospi- 
tal,   where  they  would  be  more  likely  to  do 
him    good,    than  any  where  else ;    and  he 
went  and  saw  some  gentlemen,  and  after 
much  trouble,  succeeded  in  getting  permis- 
sion to  have  him  go  there  ;   and  William's 
little*  heart  beat  with  joy,  when  he  was  told 
that  he    was  going  to  the  hospital  where 
they  hoped  to  cure  him.     And  while  one 
and  another  stood  round  his  bed,  he  repeat- 
ed this  joyful  news  to  them  again  and  again, 
and  said  that  he  hoped  "  soon  to  be  there." 
His  wishes  were  granted  ;   and  soon,  b/ 
the  active  exertions   of  his  teacher,  he  was 
comfortably  and  pleasantly  situated   there. 
He  received  every  medical  assistance  the 
institution    afforded.     Soon    after  he    had 


98  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

been  there,  an  operation  was  performed, 
which  was  attended  with  little  pain.  It  was 
then  that  his  friends  were  each  day  anxiously 
expecting  to  hear  how  much  better  he  was, 
and  were  not  without  hope  that  when  the 
bandage  should  be  taken  from  his  eyes,  he 
would  be  able  to  see  a  little,  and  that  he 
would  gain  strength  enough  to  walk  again. 
Day  after  day  and  week  after  week 
passed  away,  and  he  gained  but  little  :  still 
they  hoped  ;  but  at  length  the  time  arrived 
when  he  was  to  leave,  and,  sad  to  say, 
all  expectation  was  gone,  and  he  was 
carried  to  his  home,  which  he  left  with 
such  hopes,  as  blind  and  feeble  as  when  he 
first  left.  How  sadly  was  he  disappoint- 
ed,— but  he  did  not  grieve,  and  no  murmur, 
no  complaint  escaped  his  lips.  His  teacher 
did  not  forget  him  ;  but  witnessed  with  de- 
light his  resignation,  and  loved  him  more 
than  ever.  His  aunt,  finding  that  he  would 
not  get  well,  and  being  unable  to  support 
him,  wrote  to  a  brother  who  lived  in  a  neigh- 
bouring town,  and  told  him  the  situation  of 
the  lad,  when  he  requested  that  he  might 
come  and  live  with  him.  His  teacher  heard 
this  with  sorrow  ;  but  knowing  that  it  was 


THE    BLIND    ORPHAN    BOY.  99 

for  the  best,  he  improved  the  short  time  he 
had  to  be  with  this  little  boy,  arid  learn  from 
him  a  lesson  of  resignation  in  disappoint- 
ment. And  the  little  heart  of  his  pupil, 
which  beat  so  high  with  hope  before,  though 
it  had  been  sorely  tried,  melted  with  grati- 
tude at  the  thought  of  his  faithful  friend, 
who,  when  called  to  bid  him  farewell,  could 
only  breathe  in  silence  the  prayer,  "  May  he 
who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb, 
protect  this  orphan  boy." 

Yes,  my  pupils,  "  if  God  were  willing,  he 
prayed  that  he  might  see  again,"  were  the 
words  of  this  little  boy  ;  and  when  he  return- 
ed sadly  disappointed,  not  a  murmur  es- 
caped his  lips ;  there  was  no  complaining, 
no  repining  heard  from  him.  Let  us  re- 
member this  when  we  are  disappointed,  and 
let  no  ill  feelings  rise  in  our  hearts,  nor 
murmur  escape  our  lips ;  but  let  us  say  all 
things  are  ordered  in  wisdom,  and  are  best. 
Yes,  best ;  for  the  Being  who  guides  the 
stars  in  the  heavens,  and  the  sun  in  his 
course ;  who  takes  care  also  of  the  birds 
in  the  fields,  arid  the  smallest  insect,  does 
not  overlook  us,  but  orders  all  in  mercy ; 
and  what  He  does  promotes  our  happiness, 
6c 


100  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

though  we,  who  are  short-sighted  and  know 
not  what  is  best  for  us,  may  be  disappointed. 
Let  us  give  our  hearts  to  Him,  and  though 
others  may  disappoint  us,  He  will  not,  for 
He  is  unchangeable,  "the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  for  ever." 

"  But,  Lord,  whatever  grief  or  ill 

For  me  may  be  in  store, 
Make  me  submissive  to  thy  will, 
And  I  would  ask  no  more. 

What  sorrows  may  my  steps  attend, 

I  never  can  foretell; 
But  if  the  Lord  will  be  my  friend, 

I  know  that  all  is  well." 


101 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"  WATCH,   THAT    YE    ENTER    NOT   INTO 
TEMPTATION." 

THERE  is  a  verse  in  the  Bible  that  is  very 
interesting,  and  one  the  Christian  often  re- 
peats. Do  you  not  remember  when  our 
Saviour  was  with  his  disciples  at  Gethse- 
mane,  he  told  them  that  his  heart  was  ex- 
ceedingly sorrowful,  and  he  requested  them 
to  stop,  while  he  went  apart  to  pray.  He 
soon  returned  to  them,  and  found  them 
sleeping.  He  then  uttered  these  impressive 
words,  "  Could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one 
hour  ?  Watch,  that  ye  enter  not  into 
temptation." 

And  these  words  he  says  even  now,  at  this 
distant  period,  tp  us.  Yes,  my  pupils,  you 
must  watch.  Yes,  watch  when  at  play  with 
your  companions,  lest  you  begin  to  feel 
cross,  and  to  contradict  one  another,  and 
insist  upon  your  own  way.  Or,  if  your  little 


103  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

associates  are  in  the  wrong,  and  use  unkind 
words,  then  watch  the  opportunity,  by  con- 
ciliatory and  affectionate  words,  to  restore 
peace;  instead  of  unpleasant  looks,  give 
them  smiles  ;  and  let  every  one  see  that 
you  watch  to  be  good. 

Has  it  ever  happened  that  your  parents 
have  requested  you  to  do  something,  and 
you  refused  ;  and  on  their  repeating  the  re- 
quest, has  your  bosom  swelled  with  passion, 
and  you  have  forgotten  that  little  children 
must  always  be  gentle  and  obedient?  "for 
of  such,"  as  our  Saviour  says,  "is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  If  this  has  ever  been  the 
case  with  you,  watch  yourself,  and  the  next 
time  you  feel  disobedient,  think  of  God  who 
sees  you,  and  who  will  reward  or  punish  you 
according  to  your  behaviour.  Be  silent 
when  ill-natured,  until  you  have  conquered 
your  temper,  and  can  speak  with  calmness. 

Have  you  ever  known  the  time  when  you 
wished  to  do  something,  but  a  voice  within 
seemed  to  say  you  must  not ;  when  you 
were  earnestly  desired  by  jfplaymate  to  go 
to  some  place,  but  conscience  said  no,  you 
must  not ;  when  you  were  just  on  the  point 
of  doing  wrong,  yet  doubted,  and  hesitated  ? 


WATCHFULNESS.  103 

At  such  moments  as  these  watch  ! — watch, 
lest  you  be  led  into  temptation. 

It  is  particularly  at  those  moments  when 
ill  feelings  begin  to  rise  within  you,  that  you 
must  watch.  But  even  when  joy  and  glad- 
ness fill  your  hearts,  and  every  thing  seems 
happy  and  pleasant  around  you,  it  is  even 
then  you  must  watch,  lest  you  forget  God, 
the  giver  of  all  your  blessings,  and  your 
minds  be  withdrawn  from  the  Being  you 
should  serve.  Yes,  watch,  for  the  hour  will 
corne  when  pleasure  will  fade. 

Be  then  moderate  in  the  enjoyment  of 
your  pleasures,  and  place  not  your  happi- 
ness in  these  alone,  but  realise  that  there 
is  another  world,  for  which  you  should  be 
preparing  every  moment.  Always  act  so  as 
to  please  God,  and  not  as  if  you  were  seen 
only  by  man.  In  this  spirit  enter  upon  all 
your  duties.  In  solitude  and  silence  watch, 
that  no  impure  thought  dwell  in  your  bo- 
som. In  the  world  watch,  that  it  do  not 
allure  you  from  duty.  With  your  associates 
watch,  that  passion  be  calm,  and  that  you 
give  offence  to  no  one.  And  in  the  solemn 
hour  of  your  devotion,  when  you  look  up 
to  your  Father,  oh !  then  let  the  language 


104  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

of  your  hearts  bear  witness,  that  as  you  pray 
in  sincerity,  so  you  have  watched  faithfully, 
and  thus  have  become  prepared  to  enjoy 
the  promised  glory  and  honour  of  an  im- 
mortal life. 

ft  Oh,  watch  and  pray  ! — thou  can'st  not  tell 

How  near  thine  hour  may  be  j 
Thou  can'st  not  know  how  soon  the  bell 

May  toll  its  notes  for  thee  5 
Death's  thousand  snares  beset  thy  way, 
Frail  child  of  dust — oh,  watch  and  pray  ! 

Fond  YOUTH — as  yet  untouch'd  by  care, 

Does  thy- young  pulse  beat  high  ? 
Do  Hope's  gay  visions,  bright  and  fair, 

Dilate  before  thine  eye  ? 
Know,  these  must  change,  must  pass  away — 
Fond,  trusting  youth — oh,  watch  and  pray  ! 

Oh,  watch  and  pray  ! — the  paths  we  tread 

Lead  onward  to  the  grave  j 
Go  to  the  tornbs  and  ask  the  dead, 

Ye  on  life's  stormy  wave  ; 
And  they  shall  tell  you — even  they, 
From  their  dark  chambers — WATCH  AND  PRAY  I" 


105 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  GRATEFUL  WELCOME  ;     OR,  REWARD  FOR 
BENEVOLENCE. 

A  GREAT  many  years  ago,  there  lived  in  a 
large  city  some  persons  who  became  dissa- 
tisfied with  their  rulers  and  their  laws  ;  and 
thinking  that  they  could  live  more  happily 
elsewhere,  they  resolved  to  leave  their  home 
and  go  to  another  place.  They  met  toge- 
ther and  talked  over  the  subject,  and  agreed 
to  start  at  a  certain  time  for  a  new  coun- 
try. Men,  women,  and  children  assembled 
at  the  still  hour  of  night,  and  silently  de- 
parted. 

They  embarked,   and  after  sailing  many 
days    and    months,   wearied    and   fatigued 
they  reached  at  last  their  new  country ;  but 
when  they  looked  around  in  the  tent  they 
had  built,  they  missed  many  of  their  associ- 
ates who  had  died  on  the  way.     They  were* 
strangers  in  a  strange  land,  and  they  knew 


106  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

not  the  people  they  met,  and  could  not 
speak  their  language  ;  but  they  handed  to 
them  the  green  sprig  of  a  tree,  as  a  sign  of 
peace  and  friendship,  arid  the  people  then 
understood  them  and  shook  hands  with  them. 

They  suffered  much  for  a  long  time,  but 
at  last  other  persons  went  to  live  with  them, 
and  carried  with  them  tools  and  articles  that 
tlu  y  wanted.  This  they  did  every  year,  till 
in  a  few  years  they  formed  quite  a  colony 
by  themselves,  and  had  their  own  laws,  and 
lived  as  they  desired.  But  at  length  the 
mother  country  sent  governors  to  them,  who 
oppressed  them  with  taxes,  and  they  rose  in 
rebellion.  They  were  but  a  handful  of  men, 
comparatively  speaking,  unarmed  and  not 
regularly  trained  for  battle  ;  and  they  had 
little  more  to  support  them  than  their  good 
cause. 

At  last  an  army  was  formed  and  sent  to 
this  new  country,  to  make  the  people  obey 
the  governor,  and  they  were  all  prepared  to 
go  to  battle.  In  a  distant  country  there  liv- 
ed at  this  time  a  young  man  who  was  very 
rich;  he  heard  of  the  sufferings  of  the  poor 
people  in  this  new  country,  and  he  resolved 
to  take  his  money  and  go  to  them,  and  give 


REWARD    FOR    BENEVOLENCE.  107 

it  to  the  people,  and  offer  his  services  to  aid 
in  their  army.  Not  long  after  this  he  car- 
ried them  his  money,  and  offered  to  fight 
himself,  and  soon  th^y  put  him  among  the 
chiefs  of  their  army.  He  remained  many 
years  with  them,  and  fought  many  battles, 
till  at  length  the  people  were  victorious ; 
and  then,  after  losing  a  great  part  of  his 
property  and  running  great  hazards,  he  re- 
turned home. 

After  many  years,  when  the  young  coun- 
try he  had  assisted  had  become,  from  a  bar- 
ren waste,  a  populous  and  well  cultivated 
region,  and  when  he  had  grown  aged,  and 
those  that  had  fought  there  with  him  had 
become  old,  and  a  few  only  of  these  remain- 
ed, he  thought  he  should  like  to  go  arid  see 
the  people  ;  though  he  expected  a  few  only 
would  remember  him,  and  that  most  of  them 
would  know  little  about  him.  But  he  was 
mistaken. 

The  people,  as  soon  as  they  heard  of  his 
coming,  grateful  for  his  kindness,  urged  him 
to  visit  them,  and  see  what  use  they  had 
made  of  the  liberty  they  owed  in  part  to  him. 
They  immediately  sent  out  their  largest  ship 
to  bring  him  ;  and  when  he  had  reached  the 


108  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

shore,  they  displayed  flags  upon  their  ships, 
and  the  military  companies,  dressed  in  their 
beautiful  uniforms,  were  ready  to  receive  him. 
The  bells  rung,  the  cannon  roared,  and  the 
aged  and  the  young  all  shouted,  hail,  hail  to 
our  friend  !  The  banners  waved  at  every  cor- 
ner, triumphal  arches  were  thrown  across 
the  streets,  and  his  name  was  written  in 
large  letters  over  them,  and  the  multitude 
that  crowded  round  his  chariot,  shouted  and 
liiiz/Hcd  with  grateful  joy,  as  he  was  drawn 
through  the  streets.  What  a  happy  sight  it 
must  have  been  to  have  seen  the  gratitude 
paid  this  good  old  man,  and  how  delightful 
must  have  been  his  feelings,  and  their's  too  ; 
for  gratitude  is  one  of  the  sweetest  feelings 
the  heart  of  man  can  experience. 

History  tells  us  that  he  went  to  one  city, 
and  amidst  the  sound  of  trumpets  and  drums 
that  greeted  him,  there  appeared  a  long  line 
of  little  children  dressed  in  white,  which, 
when  he  had  reached,  the  procession  stop- 
ped, and  a  little  girl  came  forward  and  was 
taken  into  the  carriage.  She  then  repeated 
some  poetry  very  prettily,  and  while  the 
tears  rolled  down  the  old  man's  cheek,  she 
placed  a  wreath  of  flowers  upon  his  head, 


110  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

and  uttered  those  familiar  words,  '•'  Wel- 
come, welcome  Lafayette !" 

Upon  the  mention  of  this  name,  you  may 
perhaps  remember  that  happy  day,  and  the 
gratitude  and  affection  that  then  filled  your 
bosoms,  as  you  looked  at  this  good  old 
man,  and  thought  how  much  he  had  done 
for  your  country.  And  now  I  have  oi^e 
question  to  ask  :  who  was  it  that  sent  La- 
fayette to  our  fathers?  who  was  it  that  in 
those  days  assisted  us  so  much  ?  You  an- 
swer, the  wise  Governor  of  the  world.  Yes, 
yes,  it  was  that  great  and  good  Being.  And 
it  is  not  Lafayette  alone  that  he  has  sent  to 
us:  he  has  sent  us  his  son  Jesus  Christ,  to 
teach  us  our  duty,  to  tell  us  that  we  are  to 
live  for  ever,  that  we  are  to  be  judged  ac- 
cording to  our  deeds,  and  to  point  out  to 
us  by  his  own  example  the  way  to  be  good 
and  happy ;  and  it  was  this  Saviour  whom 
he  sent,  that  suffered  and  died  for  us. 

My  pupils,  as  we  think  of  these  many 
and  precious  gifts  from  our  Father,  and  of 
this  great  love  in  his  Son  toward  us.  do  we 
feel  the  same  gratitude  to  him  for  sending 
us  that  Saviour,  as  we  do  for  sending  Lr.- 
fayette.  Does  the  same  feeling  of  sorrow 


ttEWARD    FOR    BENEVOLENCE.  Ill 

fill  our  bosoms  when  we  recall  the  suffer- 
ings of  our  Saviour,  as  when  we  hear  of 
Lafayette's  imprisoninent  and  sickness  ? 
Do  we  feel  the  same  affection  of  love  to- 
ward our  Saviour  when  we  contemplate  his 
character,  his  mildness,  gentleness,  and  pa- 
tience amidst  his  enemies,  as  we  do  when 
we  think  of  the  courage  and  activity  of  La- 
fayette ? 

Remember  the  great  difference  there  is 
between  the  two  :  one  was  an  earthly  bene- 
factor, and  aided  our  fathers  in  handing 
down  to  us  that  which  will  promote  our 
temporal  comfort  and  happiness  ;  the  other 
was  a  spiritual,  heavenly  benefactor,  and 
has  imparted  to  us  that  which  will  give  us 
not  only  happiness  here,  but  happiness  be- 
yond the  grave. 

Look  but  a  moment  around  you,  and  see 
the  bounties  of  creation  spread  out  for  our 
comfort  by  your  kind  Father.  Look  at  the 
heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath,  and 
see  his  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  and 
all  these  wonderful  works  moving  on  in 
beautiful  order,  and  all,  all  made  for  us,  and 
contributing  to  our  happiness.  Think,  too, 
of  the  precepts  of  that  Saviour,  of  the  holy 


11*2  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

truths  he  taught,  and  of  the  importance  and 
value  to  us  of  those  words  he  once  uttered, 
"  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life :  as  I 
live,  ye  shall  live  also."  Think  how  differ- 
ent this  world  appears  to  us  from  what  it 
otherwise  would  in  the  promise  he  has 
given  us  of  another,  where  goodness,  piety, 
and  virtue  shall  be  rewarded. 

Where  is  our  gratitude,  if  these  great 
gifts  will  not  excite  it?  for  what  can  com- 
pare with  them  ?  Let  our  heartfelt  thanks 
be  given  to  him  who  has  done  so  much  for 
us.  Do  we  say  we  will  give  them  ?  that  a 
warmer  gratitude  shall  glow  in  our  hearts 
for  our  heavenly  than  for  our  earthly  bene- 
factors ?  That  nothing  shall  go  beyond  our 
grateful  love  to  our  Father,  and  the  Son  of 
his  love  ?  Never  forget,  then,  that  he  has 
given  us  a  test  by  which  we  may  know  our 
love,  and  a  way  in  which  we  can  show 
it.  "  Whosoever  loveth  me,"  saith  Jesus, 
"  keepeth  my  commandments."  May  we 
daily  exhibit  this  love  in  the  obedience  of 
our  lives. 


113 


CHAPTER   XV. 

RESIGNATION  J     OR,    THE    PUPII/S    DEATH. 

I  HAVE  endeavoured  to  show  you,  in  some 
of  the  stories  I  have  related,  that  religion 
can  enable  us  to  bear  old  age  and  poverty, 
as  well  as  death.  But  you  know  that  death 
is  not  confined  to  the  old ;  the  young  die, 
and  they  too  need  to  be  sustained  by  faith. 
Yes,  even  in  youth,  when  we  have  parents 
and  friends,  and  every  wish  gratified,  we 
must  not  live  without  preparation  for  death  ; 
without  remembering  God,  who  will  call  us 
to  himself  we  know  not  how  soon. 

If  you  were  told  that  you  should  be  obli- 
ged to  leave  your  home,  and  to  go  and  live 
for  ever  with  a  new  father  whom  you  had 
not  seen,  would  you  not  be  anxious  to  hear 
about  him,  to  send  him  messages,  to  be- 

'  O          > 

come  acquainted  with  his  character,  and  to 
learn  what  would  please  him  ?  Surely  you 
would.  Now  this  is  exactly  your  case. 

TA 


114  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

True,  you  do  not  know  when  your  Father 
in  heaven  will  send  for  you  ;  it  may  be  to- 
morrow, or  it  may  be  next  month,  or  it  may 
not  be  for  many  years.  Be  ready,  then, 
seeing  that  you  "know  neither  the  day  nor 
the  hour."  Your  case  may  be  like  the  lit- 
tle boy  I  once  knew,  who  was  taken  sick 
after  a  few  days'  illness,  and  died.  I  trust, 
if  it  should  be  so  with  you,  you  will  be  as 
well  prepared  as  he  was,  that  you  will  have 
Jong  known  and  loved  your  Father,  and 
that  you  will  be  glad  to  go  to  your  home  in 
heaven. 

But  I  will  tell  you  more  about  this  lad. 
One  day  he  complained  to  his  friends  that 
he  had  a  headache.  Little  was  thought  of 
it  at  first ;  he  took  some  soothing  medicine, 
and  retired  to  rest.  He  awoke  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  still  complained.  He  did  not  get 
up  that  morning;  a  physician  was  sent  for, 
and  he  gave  him  more  medicine,  but  it  did 
not  relieve  him.  Every  noise  disturbed  him, 
and  his  sufferings  increased.  Another  phy- 
sician came,  but  alas  !  his  disease  was  in  a 
remote  and  small  organ  of  the  head,  hid 
far  from  the  reach  of  medicine.  No  eye 
could  penetrate  there  ;  the  skill  of  man  was 


THE    PUPIL'S    DEATH.  115 

baffled,  though  only  a  small  organ  was  af- 
fected. To  ease  his  pain  was  all  that  could 
be  done. 

Two  Sabbaths  passed  away,  and  the  Sun- 
day-school teacher  missed  his  little  scholar. 
He  inquired  for  him,  and  learned  that  he 
was  sick.  Re  went  to  his  home,  and  saw 
him,  but  how  he  was  changed !  That  eye 
which  had  been  so  often  fixed  with  the 
deepest  interest  and  affection  on  his  teach- 
er, was  now  dull  and  insensible.  He  heard, 
neither  the  kind  inquiries  of  his  teacher, 
nor  his  mother's  sobs,  as  she  told  him  how 
he  had  suffered,  and  how  patient  he  was. 
But  he  had  been  obedient  to  his  parents, 
and  kind  to  his  playmates ;  he  had  told  the 
truth,  and  had  been  honest  and  just  in  all 
his  little  affairs ;  had  delighted  to  pray  to 
his  Father  in  heaven,  for  he  knew  that  one 
day  he  must  go  to  that  Father,  and  so  he 
tried  to  please  him  ;  and  now  that  he  was 
suddenly  called  from  this  world,  he  was 
prepared.  He  had  no  fears — his  only  regret 
was  occasioned  by  the  thought  of  leaving 
his  parents  ;  and  it  might  with  truth  be  said, 
that  this  was  the  only  sorrow  he  had  ever 
caused  them. 

TB 


116  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

His  teacher  left  him,  and  in  the  evening 
of  that  day  he  died.  And  on  the  next  after- 
noon his  classmates,  of  both  his  daily  and 
Sunday  school,  paid  him  their  tribute  of 
affection,  and  in  company  preceded  his  re- 
mains to  the  grave,  followed  by  his  teachers. 
They  arrived  at  the  spot,  and  stood  with 
uncovered  heads  while  the  body  of  their 
little  friend  was  deposited  in  the  tomb. 

My  pupils,  what  an  impressive  lesson 
does  he  give  us.  A  few  days  before  his 
death,  he  was  with  his  schoolmates,  listen- 
ing to  his  teacher.  Now  his  example  speaks 
to  us,  what  does  it  tell  us  ?  not  merely  that 
the  young  may  die,  but  that  in  every  period 
of  life  goodness  and  virtue  excite  our  ad- 
miration and  love. 

He  was  but  a  little  boy,  yet  his  docility, 
his  industry,  his  truth,  and  his  piety,  had 
rendered  him  old  in  virtue,  and  must  strongly 
impress  you  with  the  remark  of  the  wise 
man,  that  life  is  not  to  be  valued  for  its 
length,  but  its  usefulness  ;  his  days  "  were 
few,  but  full.'1  May  we  follow  his  example, 
and  if  it  please  our  heavenly  Father  to  re- 
move us  like  him  to  another  state  of  exist- 
ence, may  we,  like  him,  be  fitted  for  our 


THE    PUPIL'S    DEATH.  117 

new  home.  Remember  that  death  does  not 
change  the  character,  it  only  changes  the 
world  in  which  we  are  to  live.  This  little 
lad  I  have  told  you  of  once  lived  with  us ; 
but  he  now  lives  in  another  world,  and  his 
piety  and  devotion  are  engaged  in  a  holier 
community,  in  the  presence  of  that  Being 
to  whom  they  have  here  so  often  been  di- 
rected. Forget  not  that  Jesus  says  to  his 
true  disciples,  c<  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you,  that  where  I  nm  there  ye  may  be  also  ;" 
let  us  constantly  be  preparing  to  meet  him, 
that  when  the  last  hour  comes,  and  come  it 
must  to  all,  it  will  find  us  ready  to  meet 
our  Saviour  and  our  God.  Then,  after  a 
blameless  life,  a  peaceful,  happy  death, 

"  Our's  will  a  joyful  resurrection  be." 


118 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ABSENCE    FROM    HOME  ;     OR,    THE    UNCLE'S 
VISIT    TO    HIS    LITTLE    FRIENDS. 

NOT  far  from  the  city  of  Boston,  there 
lived  a  respectable  farmer  and  his  wife,  and 
with  them  boarded  three  little  girls.  Their 
father  was  dead,  and  their  mother  was 
obliged  to  be  separated  from  them  a  short 
time  ;  so  she  sent  them  to  this  good  man's 
to  board,  and  they  went  every  day  to  school 
from  his  house.  Their  house  was  quite  old, 
painted  red,  but  very  pleasantly  situated, 
and  the  honeysuckle  was  trained  round  the 
door. 

It  was  not  only  a  pretty  place  without, 
but  a  neat  one  within.  The  land  round  it 
was  very  rocky,  and  near  it  was  a  high 
mountain,  which  extended  many  miles 
along  the  edge  of  the  village.  Had  you 
passed  by  it  at  sunset,  when  the  week 
days'  work  was  done,  and  seen  the  two 


120  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

little  girls  sitting  near  the  door,  the  old 
gentleman  and  lady  at  the  window  with 
their  children  near  them,  you  would  not 
only  have  said  as  you  passed  by,  "  Oh,  what 
a  pretty  place  !"  but  you  might  have  said  al- 
so, "  what  a  happy  family." 

As  I  was  well  acquainted  with  them,  I 
will  tell  you  how  they  passed  their  time. 
They  rose  early  in  the  morning,  said  their 
prayers,  learned  their  lessons,  and  went  to 
school ;  and  when  night  came,  they  returned 
home,  and  after  their  supper  of  bread  and 
milk,  as  they  heard  the  cows  coming  from 
pasture,  they  would  run  out  to  see  their  fa 
vourite  little  cow,  which  was  their  pet. 

Now  this  favourite  cow  had  grown  up 
since  they  had  lived  in  the  farmer's  family, 
and  was  so  gentle  that  she  would  stand  quite 
still  while  they  stroked  her  white  nose,  and 
brushed  her  brown  hair.  After  caressing 
her  some  time,  they  would  next  visit  their 
birds,  for  they  had  found  a  nest  on  the 
ground,  and  fearing  some  bad  boys  might 
find  it  out,  they  had  carefully  concealed  it 
with  grass. 

Then  after  a  walk,  they  would  return 
home,  and  run  up  to  the  old  farmer,  and 


THE  UNCLES  VISIT. 

tell  him  all  they  had  seen,  and  he  would 
patiently  listen  to  them,  and  answer  all  their 
questions.  Presently,  as  night  set  in,  a 
candle,  the  bible,  and  spectacles,  were  put 
on  a  stand,  and  placed  before  the  venerable 
old  man  ;  a  chapter  was  read,  and  all  the 
family  knelt  as  he  offered  his  evening  prayer. 
The  "good  night,"  and  the  kiss  were  mu- 
tually given,  the  Sunday  clothes  were  nicely 
laid  on  the  chair,  at  the  side  of  the  bed,  and 
our  little  friends  retired  to  taste  the  peaceful 
slumbers  which  a  well  spent  day  always 
gives. 

One  day,  as  they  were  returning  from 
school,  they  observed  a  stage  stop  before 
the  cottage,  and  presently  a  gentleman  got 
out,  and  when  he  turned  round,  they  all 
exclaimed,  "  it  is  our  dear  uncle."  The 
meeting  was  a  joyful  one,  for  they  loved 
him  tenderly ;  and  Anne  and  Sarah  took 
his  hand,  while  Elizabeth  went  dancing  on 
before.  They  entered  the  house  and  intro- 
duced him  to  the  farmer's  wife. 

The  next  morning  they  took  him  to  see 
the  cows,  the  oxen,  and  sheep  ;  and  related 
while  walking,  all  the  news  they  could  think 
of.  They  then  showed  him  their  books,  and 


122  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

read  to  him,  and  he  was  quite  satisfied  that, 
though  away  from  their  mother,  they  had 
carefully  improved  their  time,  and  not 
wasted  it  as  some  little  girls  do.  On  the 
contrary,  each  had  found  leisure  in  the  play 
hours  to  make  a  little  present,  to  give  their 
mother  and  uncle.  I  need  not  say  that 
their  uncle  was  pleased  with  these  tokens 
of  regard. 

After  a  short  time,  the  uncle  was  obliged 
to  leave  them.  They  felt  sad  at  the  separa- 
tion, and  could  not  prevent  a  few  tears  from 
falling.  They  were  not  unhappy  because 
they  could  not  go  with  him  to  their  home, 
for  they  remembered  it  was  their  mother's 
and  uncle's  wish,  that  they  should  remain 
there,  and  after  he  had  left  them,  they 
returned  to  their  lessons  and  daily  duties 
with  new  zeal  and  increased  interest. 

Perhaps,  my  pupils,  some  of  you  are  se- 
parated from  your  parents  ;  and  you  may 
sometimes  feel  sad  and  discontented,  and 
loiig  for  the  comforts  of  home.  If  you  are 
not  away  from  home,  be  grateful  that  in 
this  respect  you  are  more  highly  blessed 
than  many  children — if  you  are,  remember 
these  little  girls,  and  knowing  that  it  is  the 


THE  UNCLE'S  VISIT.  123 

wish  of  your  parents  that  you  should  be 
separated  from  them,  seek  by  diligence 
in  your  studies,  and  docility  to  your 
teachers,  to  improve  every  moment  of  your 
precious  time.  Let  the  remembrance  of 
your  parents  stimulate  you  to  be,  and  to  do 
all  they  wish,  and  then,  believe  me,  you  will 
not  find  the  time  of  absence  long  ;  and  you 
will  not  wish  to  return  home  till  your  pa- 
rents wish  you  to  do  so.  You  will  then  be 
happy,  for  the  good  and  amiable  are  always 
happy ;  and  you  will  gain  at  once  the  ap- 
probation both  of  an  earthly  and  heavenly 
parent.  And  forget  not,  my  pupils,  that 
wherever  you  may  be,  as  the  little  hymn 
says,  you  are  never  alone — oh,  no  ! 

"  If  you  could  but  find  some  cave  unknown, 

Where  human  feet  had  never  trod, 
Yet  there  you  could  not  be  alone, 
On  every  side  there  would  be  God. 

To  those  who  seek  him,  he  is  near ; 

He  looks  upon  the  heart  ; 
And  from  the  humble  and  sincere 

He  never  will  depart. 

He  sees  our  thoughts,  our  wishes  knows, 

He  hears  our  faintest  prayer  j 
Where'er  the  faithful  Christian  goes, 

He  finds  his  Father  there." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE      PILGRIMS  J       OR,       PERSEVERANCE      AND 
PIETY. 

IT  was  on  a  dark  and  dreary  night  in  Sep- 
tember, ahat  one  hundred  and  twenty  men, 
women  and  children,  stood  anxiously  watch- 
ing on  the  shores  of  Lincolnshire,  in  Eng- 
land. At  length  the  long  wished-for  boat 
arrived,  and  shivering  with  cold,  and  with 
many  sad  feelings,  they  crowded  into  her  as 
many  as  could  go;  and  was  pushed  off 
for  the  vessel  that  was  waiting  in  the  stream 
to  take  them  to  a  far  distant  land.  The 
boat  \vas  no  sooner  off  than  they  saw  a 
band  of  horse,  and  a  body  of  armed  men 
hastening  towards  them  on  land. 

The  boat  at  last  reached  the  vessel ;  a 
part  only  of  those  who  were  to  leave  were  in 
it,  and  that  boat  was  to  return  and  take  the 
remainder,  and  also  some  of  the  provisions 
there,  that  was  left  on  shore.  But  alas,  the 


126  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

sight  of  the  horsemen  had  at  once  filled 
them  with  fear,  and  they  did  not  dare  to 
return.  Parents  who  had  united  to  share 
their  fate  together,  were  by  this  means  sepa- 
rated, and  families  were  thus  torn  asunder, 
never  to  embrace  each  other  again.  The 
horsemen  appeared  with  the  officers  of  jus- 
tice, and  led  those  on  shore  away,  and  put 
them  in  prison  ;  and  when  they  released 
them,  their  friends  and  protectors  had  gone, 
and  they  had  no  houses  or  homes  to  go  to, 
and  were  thrown  on  the  world  objects  of 
charity  and  pity. 

The  vessel  set  sail.  A  storm  had  long 
been  gathering,  the  sky  was  dark  and  lower- 
ing, and  the  vessel  began  to  rock  violently. 
It  was  now  the  month  of  December,  and 
they  had  not  found  their  new  home,  and 
had  suffered  much  from  cold,  anxiety,  and 
sickness ;  but  they  kept  up  their  spirits — 
they  looked  up  to  their  Father  in  heaven, 
and  implored  his  blessing. 

A  storm  arose,  their  little  vessel  was  turn- 
ed out  of  its  course,  and  they  nearly  lost 
their  way,  and  were  in  danger  of  being  ship- 
wrecked. At  last,  after  tossing  about  some 
time,  they  saw  land,  and  all  hailed  the  spot 


THE    PILGRIMS.  127 

they  had  chosen  for  their  home.  At  length 
the  vessel  reached  the  shore.  It  was  a  wil- 
derness, inhabited  by  savages. 

An  Indian  approached  them,  and  was 
soon  followed  by  others.  The  strangers 
went  to  meet  them,  and  by  signs  showed 
they  were  friends  ;  and  peace  was  soon  esta- 
blished between  them.  They  cleared  away 
a  little  spot,  and  built  their  tents,  and  made 
a  small  settlement.  But  soon  many  of  their 
number  died,  their  hardships  were  so  great, 
and  they  were  called  to  follow  many  to  the 
grave.  How  sad  they  must  have  been  in 
that  dreary  spot.  How  they  must  have  wept 
at  the  thought  of  the  home  they  had  left. 
How  they  must  have  felt,  thus  solitary, 
friendless,  and  alone,  in  that  wild  wilderness. 

You  will  ask  me  if  all  this  is  true  ?  who 
were  these  people  ?  where  did  they  go  ?  and 
when  did  this  happen  ?  Yes,  it  is  true. 
The  persons  I  have  been  telling  you  about 
were  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  who  landed  two 
hundred  and  ten  years  ago,  on  the  rock  at 
Plymouth,  on  the  22d  day  of  December. 

It  was  this  cold  month,  when  the  ground 

is  white  with  snow,  arid  the  trees  hang  with 

icicles,   and   the   water  is  frozen,   that  our 

forefathers   landed  ;  v  it  was  then  that  they 

8 


128  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

first  set  their  feet  on  this  shore.  Shall  this 
season  come  and  pass  by,  without  notice  ? 
No,  when  we  meet  at  this  season,  my  pu- 
pils, in  the  enjoyment  of  so  many  blessings, 
let  us  recall  the  sufferings  and  trials  of  our 
fathers  ?  of  those  whose  courage  and  forti- 
tude gave  us  our  happy  home.  They,  amid 
sickness  and  sorrow,  were  not  discouraged  ; 
they  felt  and  acknowledged  that  the  Lord 
is  good  to  all,  and  that  not  a  sparrow  falls 
to  the  ground  without  his  notice. 

My  pupils,  when  you  gather  round  the 
comfortable  fire  on  a  winter's  evening ;  when 
you  climb  up  a  parent's  knee,  and  receive  a 
parent's  smile ;  ask,  oh !  then  ask,  who 
were  the  Pilgrim  Fathers?  Let  the  cold 
north  wind  bring  them  to  mind ;  and  go  to 
the  books  that  contain  the  history  of  their 
sufferings,  and  you  will  there  trace  the 
goodness  and  power  of  that  Being,  whose 
tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works. 

Let  the  thought  of  that  goodness  inspire 
you  with  the  spirit  and  perseverance  once 
exhibited  on  the  dreary  shores  of  Lincoln- 
shire ;  and  with  the  piety  and  devotion  wit- 
nessed on  the  rock  of  Plymouth,  that  you, 
too,  may  leave  a  name  that  will  be  cherished 
and  honoured  like  that  of  the  pilgrim  fathers. 


129 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

AFFECTION  ;   OR,  LOVE  TO  PARENTS. 

IT  is  an  excellent  plan  to  think  in  the 
evening  upon  what  we  have  performed  or 
neglected  to  do  during  the  day,  We  shall 
feel  most  like  meditating  at  this  time,  and 
we  shall  always  have  enough  to  think  about. 
One  evening,  as  I  was  sitting  in  my  room, 
I  fell  into  a  train  of  thought.  I  called  over 
many  things,  and  among  others  I  remem- 
bered that  the  next  day  would  be  Sunday, 
and  that  I  should  meet  my  class  at  the  Sun- 
day school.  I  asked  myself,  what  shall  I 
say  to  them  ?  what  lesson  shall  I  give  them  ? 
Has  anything  taken  place  the  last  week 
that  made  me  think  of  them  ?  Yes,  there 
has.  I  saw  this  afternoon  a  gentleman  who 
had  just  lost  his  good  mother,  and  he  was 
sad,  as  you  may  well  suppose.  He  con- 
versed with  me  some  time ;  and  as  he 
thought  of  her  past  affection  and  kindness 
to  him,  he  wept.  "Oh,"  said  he,  " I  trust 


130  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

I  have  been  a  dutiful  son,   but  she  is  now 
gone." 

We  are  too  apt  to  forget  the  many  bless- 
ings we  enjoy,  till  we  are  deprived  of  them. 
We  complain  sometimes  because  we  have 
to  go  to  school  or  to  work  ;  but  if  we  were 
taken  sick  and  were  confined  to  the  house, 
we  should  long  to  go  out,  and  think  any  la- 
bour better  than  the  pain  and  privations  of 
illness.  When  our  parents  ask  us  to  go  on 
an  errand,  or  to  do  some  favour,  we  some- 
times answer  "  I  am  tired,  or  busy,  and  can- 
not go  ;  can  you  not  get  some  one  else  to 
go;"  but  were  we  unable  to  walk,  how 
quickly  should  we  tell  the  girl  or  boy  who 
should  say  this,  ri  How  gladly  i  would  go  if 
I  could." 

It  too  often  seems  to  us  a  matter  of  course 
that  we  should  run  home  after  school,  and 
sit  by  a  goo  1  fire,  and  have  a  bountiful  table 
spread  before  us ;  it  is  a  common  thing 
with  us,  perhaps,  when  our  father  returns 
at  night,  to  run  to  meet  him  to  receive  his 
smile  of  approbation,  and  to  hear  him  in- 
quire of  our  mother  if  we  have  been  good 
children.  All  this  is  pleasant,  is  delightful; 
and  our  hearts  beat  with  joy  when  we  think 


LOVE    TO    PARENTS.  131 

of  it.  Bat  sometimes  this  picture  changes 
for  a  very  different  one,  and  when  our  father 
returns  he  sees  pouted  lips,  and  red  eyes, 
and  ill-natured  countenances.  Sometimes 
he  asks  a  favour,  and  the  answer  is,  "  I  do 
not  want  to  do  that,  father ;"  and  our  good 
mother  is  unkindly  answered,  and  the  loud 
voice  is  heard,  and  tears  are  seen. 

My  pupils,  why  is  this,  how  does  it  hap- 
pen ?  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you.  Among 
many  reasons  that  may  be  given,  one  is  that 
you  do  not  consider  sufficiently  how  good 
your  parents  have  been  to  you;  if  you  did 
you  could  not  be  so  insensible  to  their  affec- 
tions, you  would  not  do  anything  that  would 
pain  or  grieve  their  hearts.  Did^you  think 
of  this  as  you  ought,  unkindness  would  ne- 
ver be  shown  by  you. 

Who,  in  the  helpless  days  of  infancy, 
watched  you  night  after  night,  as  you  lay  in 
the  cradle  ?  Who  played  with  you,  carried 
you  in  their  arms,  and  kept  you  from  ten 
thousand  dangers,  day  after  day,  long  be- 
fore you  could  take  care  of  yourselves?  It 
was  your  mother.  Who,  at  midnight,  when 
you  cried,  was  with  you  in  a  moment  to  see 
that  you  were  safe  and  warm  ?  Who  brought 
SA 


13*2  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

home  the  little  books  and  the  playthings  for 
you,  and  asked  only  your  love  and  a  kiss? 
Who  is  it  that  has  often  taken  you  upon  his 
knee,  and  while  you  listened^with  profound 
attention,  told  you  the  pretty  story?  And 
who,  when  you  had  grown  older,  and  went 
to  school,  got  everything  you  wished  that 
was  proper  for  you  ?  Whose  love  is  it  that 
your  daily  faults  cannot  wear  out?  who  lis- 
tens to  all  your  little  troubles,  shares  in  and 
soothes  your  griefs,  and  is  never  wearied 
with  your  complaints?  Is  it  not  your  pa- 
rents? And  can  there  be  disobedient  chil- 
dren ?  If  there  be,  it  is  certainly  owing  to 
their  not  having  reflected  on  these  things 
before. 

My  pupils,  be  not  thus  neglectful  of  and 
unkind  to  those  who  have  done  so  much  for 
you;  devote  every  moment  of  your  lives  to 
them,  for  you  know  not  how  soon  they  may 
be  taken  from  you ;  and  then  you  will  bit- 
terly lament  every  act  of  disobedience.  Are 
there  any  ofcyou  who  weep  alone,  who  have 
no  tender  mother  or  kind  father  to  sympa- 
thise with  you  in  sorrow,  or  participate  in 
your  pleasures  ?  You  know,  then,  how  dif- 
ferent all  other  love  is  from  that  you  once 


134  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

possessed.  And  could  it  be  restored,  could 
you  see  them  and  enjoy  their  love  and  so- 
ciety again  here,  oh  !  never  would  you  be 
guilty  of  disobedience  or  unkindness  again, 
but  you  would  rejoice  to  suffer  and  labour 
for  them ;  experience  having  long  since 
taught  you  that  your  happiness  is  consulted 
by  no  one  as  it  is  by  them. 

Remember,  now,  their  advice,  and  place 
your  hope  and  trust  in  God,  who  never 
changes,  who  will  be  your  father  and  friend 
for  ever.  To  some  of  you,  now  is  the  ac- 
cepted time.  Go  to  them  with  softened 
hearts,  and  ask  them  to  forgive  you  for  what 
you  have  done  wrong,  and  show  your  affec- 
tion by  the  obedience  of  your  lives.  To 
them  you  owe  existence  :  make  it  a  blessing 
to  them  and  yourselves,  by  striving  con- 
stantly to  do  the  will  of  your  parents  on 
earth,  and  your  Father  in  heaven. 

"  My  father,  my  mother,  I  know 
I  cannot  your  kindness  repay, 
But  I  hope  that  as  older  I  grow, 

I  shall  learn  your  commands  to  obey. 

For  fear  that  I  ever  should  dare 
From  all  your  commands  to  depart, 

Whenever  I  'm  saying  my  prayer 
I  will  ask  for  a  dutiful  heart/' 


135 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    TWINS  ;      OR,    HOW    MUCH    A    CHILD 

CAN    DO. 

"  WHA.T  can  such  a  little  boy  as  I  do,  for 
mother?"  said  a  lad  of  my  acquaintance  the 
other  day.  The  question  struck  me  at  the 
time  as  one  that  children  sometimes  ask, 
when  they  seek  an  excuse  for  being  negli- 
gent in  their  duty.  A  few  days  after,  this 
remark  of  the  boy  was  recalled  with  pecu- 
liar force,  by  the  following  circumstance. 
I  called  at  the  store  of  a  friend,  one  warm 
afternoon  in  June,  when  I  saw  a  woman  sit- 
ting near  the  door,  with  her  two  little  chil- 
dren, about  four  years  of  age,  at  her  sidej? 
They  were  twins,  and  were  dressed  exactly 
alike.  I  was  attracted  by  their  neat  ap- 
pearance and  smiling  countenances,  and  as 
I  love  good  children  very  much,  I  began  to 
ask  their  names,  and  many  other  questions, 
in  order  to  hear  them  talk.  My  friend, 
8c 


136  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

seeing  me  so  much  pleased  with  them,  told 
them  to  sing  one  of  their  hymns  to  me,  and 
instantly  they  both  began  to  sing  their  little 
song  of  praise ;  and  their  voices  were  so 
soft,  that  I  was  quite  delighted. 

In  a  few  moments  I  took  my  friend  aside, 
and  inquired  about  them  ;  for,  though  they 
looked  comfortable,  I  could  easily  see  that 
they  were  poor;  and  I  had  no  doubt  they 
had  called  upon  this  gentleman  to  procure 
some  assistance,  as  I  had  long  known  him 
to  be  the  "  poor  man's  friend."  Immedi- 
ately on  my  asking  him  about  them,  he  told 
me  that  a  little  more  than  four  years  ago,  a 
person  came  to  his  store  on  a  cold  day  in 
winter,  and  told  him  that  there  was  a  wo- 
man in  F street,  in  a  destitute  situa- 
tion, and  was  deserving  aid  from  the  bene- 
volent, and  requested  him  to  call  and  see 
her.  He  did  so,  and  went  in  the  evening, 
and  found  her,  as  the  gentleman  described, 
in  a  small  but  comfortable  chamber  in  the 
back  part  of  the  house. 

There  were  three  boys  in  the  room ;  and 
these  two  twin  children,  then  a  few  days  old, 
were  on  the  bed  in  one  corner  of  the  room. 
After  telling  her  the  object  of  his  visit, 


THE    TWINS.  137 

and  inquiring  respecting  her  wants  and  her 
situation,  she  told  him  that  her  husband 
was  a  carpenter,  that  a  few  months  ago,  he 
had  an  excellent  offer  made  to  him,  if  he 
would  go  to  a  distant  part  of  the  country 
and  do  some  work,  and  return  again  in  a 
few  months. 

So  large  was  the  sum  offered  him,  and 
business  being  very  dull,  he  was  induced 
to  accept  the  proposal,  in  the  hope  that  he 
should  return  in  a  short  time,  and  bring 
home  with  him  money  enough  to  support 
his  family  for  some  time.  With  these  hopes 
he  left  his  home.  Some  months  passed 
away,  and  nothing  was  heard  from  him  ; 
and  having  expended  the  little  money  that 
was  left,  and  not  being  able  to  earn  any 
herself,  her  infants  requiring  much  care,  she 
made  known  her  wants  to  a  neighbour. 

Her  boys  attended  school  regularly,  and 
constantly  employed  their  leisure  in  assist- 
ing their  mother  by  taking  care  of  the  chil- 
dren, going  of  errands,  and  picking  up 
chips.  By  the  kindness  of  friends  she  re- 
ceived assistance  ;  but  often,  said  my  friend, 
have  I  gone  to  her  house  and  found  her  des- 
titute of  food,  though  the  benevolent  neigh- 


138  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

hours  did  not  leave  her  to  suffer  when  they 
knew  it.  During  this  time,  these  good 
children,  instead  of  being  a  burthen,  were  a 
comfort;  instead  of  teasing  and  disturbing 
her,  they  were  always  ready  to  give  a  part 
of  their  scanty  meals  to  each  other. 

Soon  the  two  eldesl  boys  were  sent  where 
they  could  earn  a  living;  one  was  sent  to  a 
farmer,  and  the  other  to  a  paper-maker. 
But  though  separated  from  their  mother, 
they  did  not  forget  her,  but  often  wrote 
to  her,  and  seemed  very  anxious  to  grow 
old  enough  to  get  some  money  to  give  her. 
Joseph,  the  younger  boy,  who  was  at  home, 
tried  all  in  his  power  to  help  his  mother, 
and  was  very  attentive  and  kind  to  her. 

Three  years  p:isscd  a\v;:y,  the  latter  part 
of  which  she  obtained  work  enough  to 
main  little  fami'y  ;  and  the  children, 

as  t!  older,  grew  more   mindful   of 

all  her  wishes.  About  this  time,  the  poor 
wiman  received  intelligence  of  the  death  of 
her  husbijnd.  Thou  she  felt  that  she  was 
left  alone,  with  no  other  support  than  God, 
and  she  felt  more  anxious  than  ever  to  re- 
new her  efforts. 

It  was   often   her  custom  to  sing  as   she 


THE    TWINS.  139 

sat  rocking  her  twins  to  sleep,  or  watched 
them  playing  on  the  floor  at  her  feet.  Once 
or  twice  she  observed  that  they  began  to 
join  her  song,  and  caught  here  and  there 
a  note  or  two  right ;  so  she  repeated  them 
very  often,  and  in  a  little  time  they  learned 
to  sing  a  whole  hymn. 

A  few  weeks  since,  continued  my  friend, 
I  stopped  in  to  see  her  towards  evening, 
and  found  h,er  sitting  by  the  window,  her 
day's  work  being  over.  Every  thing  round 
her  was  neat,  and  all  was  still,  except  the 
little  twins  who  were  sitting  in  the  rocking 
chair  at  the  side  of  their  mother,  singing 
to  her.  How  prettily  they  sing,  said  I; 
"  oh,  yes,"  replied  the  mother;  "  when  the 
evening  comes,  I  place  them  at  my  side, 
and  let  them  sing  to  me,  and  I  seem  to  for- 
get for  a  time  my  cares  and  troubles ;  and 
when  I  hear  their  sweet  voices  singing  their 
hymn  of  gratitude  in  the  evening,  young  as 
they  are,  they  amply  repay  me  for  all  the 
anxiety  they  have  caused  me." 

Some  days  after  this,  the  mother  received 
a  letter  from  one  of  her  sons,  in  which  he 
mentioned  that  his  mother  must  not  think 
he  had  forgotten  them,  for  he  remembered 


140  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

them  every  day;  and  he  hoped  when  he 
was  free  that  he  should  be  able  to  have  a 
farm  ;  then  his  mother  and  sisters  and  bro- 
thers, should  come  and  live  with  him  ;  he 
said  he  was  saving  the  money  his  friends 
gave  him,  and  intended  to  send  it  to  his  mo- 
ther to  buy  something  for  the  children  ;  and 
he  closed  with  giving  some  good  advice  to 
his  younger  brother.  You  would  have  been 
pleased  to  have  seen  how  delighted  his  mo- 
ther was  on  reading  this  letter,  and  how 
much  pleasure  it  gave  her  to  see  that  he 
tried  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  though  absent 
from  home  that  he  had  not  forgotten  her. 

As  my  friend  related  to  me  how  happy 
this  mother  was  on  receiving  this  letter,  and 
also  his  visit  to  her  in  the  evening,  I  could 
not  but  think  how  much  a  little  child  can 
do.  Even  these  little  twins  who  could  hard- 
ly speak  plain,  made  their  good  mother  hap- 
py ;  and  the  kind  and  affectionate  letter 
from  her  son  bade  her  hope  that  his  wish 
would  be  realized,  that  one  day  when  he 
was  older  they  all  should  live  at  his  house  in 
the  country  ;  and  she  might  hope  this  if  he 
continued  to  be  what  he  then  was,  a  good, 
dutiful  and  affectionate  son. 


THE    TWINS.  141 

My  pupils,  do  you  not  wish  to  be  as  good 
and  affectionate  as  these  children?  "But," 
you  may  perhaps  say,  "  these  children  were 
poor,  and  my  mother  does  not  want  me  to 
pick  up  chips,  or  give  up  a  part  of  my  din- 
ner." Perhaps  not,  yet  you  will,  if  you  ob- 
serve, find  as  many  things  to  do,  let  your 
situation  in  life  be  what  it  may. 

I  once  knew  a  little  girl,  who  from  being 
much  indulged,  found  that  it  cost  her  a  great 
effort  to  give  up  her  own  will  on  every  oc- 
casion. She  grew  very  selfish,  and  as  she 
loved  nice  things,  she  frequently  took  the 
best  piece  of  cake  or  pie  herself.  Her  mo- 
ther told  her  of  it,  and  made  her  sensible 
that  in  seeking  her  own  gratification  only, 
she  obtained  but  a  short  lived  pleasure  ; 
whereas  when  she  yielded  her  wishes  to  an- 
other, she  felt  happy  by  remembering  it  a 
long  time  afterwards. 

Anne,  (for  that  was  her  name,)  was  anx- 
ious to  be  good,  and  as  she  loved  her  mo- 
ther, she  resolved  to  conquer  her  selfish 
propensities.  Her  mother  was  an  invalid, 
and  the  only  fruit  she  could  relish  was 
grapes.  Now  Anne  loved  grapes  very 
much  herself,  and  as  they  lived  in  the  coun- 
try this  fruit  was  not  often  to  be  procured. 


142  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

A  day  or  two  after  Anne  had  resolved  to 
reform,  her  mother  sent  her  to  a  neighbour, 
who  gave  her  a  fine  bunch  of  grapes.  It 
was  a  great  temptation,  for  she  had  not  seen 
any  before  for  a  long  time  ;  but  instead  of 
eating  them  she  asked  for  a  sheet  of  paper 
to  put  them  in,  and  carried  them  home, 
without  taking  one  by  the  way.  She  took 
them  immediately  to  her  mother,  and  beg- 
ged her  to  accept  them.  At  first  her  mo- 
ther desired  her  to  take  a  part  of  them,  but 
she  said  no,  for  she  had  begun  to  enjoy  the 
pleasure  of  self-government.  Her  mother 
therefore  took  them,  and  from  this  time 
Anne  was  on  all  occasions  the  last  to  think 
of  herself,  and  she  found  opportunities  fifty 
times  a  day  to  do  something  to  oblige  others. 

She  had  saved  all  the  money  that  had  been 
given  her  for  a  long  time  in  order  to  buy  a 
doll.  As  her  parents  lived  in  retirement,  and 
had  few  visitors,  she  had  very  little  money. 
One  afternoon  a  poor  child,  of  about  eight 
years  old,  came  in  from  the  road  to  ask 
charity  ;  the  child's  feet  were  cut  by  walk- 
ing without  shoes,  and  she  cried  bitterly. 
Anne  soon  found  out  the  cause,  and  whis- 
pering to  her  mother,  said,  "  how  much  will 


THE    TWINS.  143 

a  pair  of  shoes  cost  ?"  <v  -Her  mother  told 
her ;  "  it  is  just  about  the  sum  I  have  saved 
for  my  doll,"  returned  she.  "Mother,  let 
me  give  her  my  thick  shoes,  and  buy  me  a 
pair  with  this  money ;  I  can  do  without  a 
doll."  Her  mother  consented,  and  Anne 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  little  child 
go  away  full  of  gratitude  towards  her  little 
benefactor,  while  she  felt  also  the  truth  of 
that  remark  of  our  Saviour,  "  it  is  better  to 
give  than  to  receive." 

And  now,  my  pupils,  are  there  any  among 
you,  who  feel  animated  by  the  desire  to  be 
useful  to  others  like  these  children  ?  If  so, 
the  very  wish  shows  you  will  soon  have  the 
opportunity  ;  for  when  we  feel  a  strong  in- 
clination to  do  any  thing,  we  are  not  long 
without  finding  the  way.  A  thousand  times 
in  your  past  life  you  have  omitted  pleasant 
duties  because  you  wanted  inclination,  but 
now  that  you  sincerely  wish  to  be  useful, 
every  hour  of  the  day  will  present  an  op- 
portunity. 

Did  you  ever  consider  that  time  is  so  pre- 
cious that  "  God  never  gives  us  but  one  mo- 
ment at  a  time."  Improve  your  hours  there- 
fore well ;  be  humble,  obedient,  affectionate, 


144  TEACHER'S  GIFT. 

•     V 

and  constantly  try  to  do  the  will  of  God  and 
of  your  parents,  with  simplicity  of  heart.  Be 
gentle  and  docile  ;  like  the  angels  of  God, 
full  of  sweetness,  purity  and  love.  What 
sight  is  more  sad  than  a  passionate,  self- 
willed,  disobedient  child  ?  We  expect  from 
youth,  those  who  enjoy  the  advantages  of 
good  education  and  kind  parents,  all  that  is 
lovely,  innocent  and  good  ;  and  Jesus,  you 
know,  says,  "  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  On  parting  with  you,  therefore, 
now  my  pupils,  I  would  say  "  be  faithful ;" 
yes,  "be  faithful  even  unto  death,"  and  the 
promise  of  your  heavenly  Father  to  you  is, 

"   I    WILL    GIVE    THEE    A    CROWN     OF    LIFE." 


04GCj 


